


Knot Your Typical College Romance

by stilesanderek (minxxx)



Series: Moon and Stars [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Knotting, Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Biting, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Breathplay, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Face-Fucking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Hate Sex, Hate to Love, Jealous Derek, Knotting, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mates, Oblivious Stiles, Possessive Derek, Possessive Sex, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Soul Bond, Spark Stiles Stilinski, sort of they're not THAT enemies but w/e lets just tag that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 16:29:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 51,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2395115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minxxx/pseuds/stilesanderek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles loves studying at Beacon Hills Supernatural University and even though he loves his group of friends, he just wishes that <i>Derek</i> wasn't included in it. Stiles hates the guy fiercely, and he knows it's completely mutual, and what he also knows it's completely mutual is the hate boner they both have going on for each other. What happens after they finally hookup after years of tension, though, isn't something Stiles ever signed up for.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Shut the fuck up, Stilinski,” Derek hisses, their foreheads less than half a dozen of inches apart.</i></p><p> </p><p> <i>“Oh yeah, big guy?” Stiles says, stuffing his chest in defiance, licking his mouth once and then finally saying, “Make me.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay so! i really don't like posting wips, especially because i'm not the most consistent writer in existence, but i really wanted to publish this because this fic is my baby and i really want to finish this and i've been lacking a bit of motivation for this. so posting this and getting positive comments is really, really important for me! so if you like this, i invite you to let me know because it matters and it'll probably make me finish this faster, which is the intention of me posting this as a wip.
> 
> i have 2 and 1/3 chapters written in total, with this one, and the fic is probably going to have around 45k words, or something more. so probably around 4 chapters. i want to finish this before november, because that's when nanowrimo starts, and i'm very positive i'll be able to!
> 
> thanks bleep0bleep for the beta, and all the other mistakes are mine (especially because english is not my native language)
> 
> EDIT: sorry that the summary is all big and weird. AO3 keeps fucking it up. it's either that or no space between the paragraphs whatsoever. :(

“Oh my god!” Stiles laughs as Scott flies and hits a tree trunk after he hit the barrier that Stiles cast around himself. “This shit is amazing! I didn’t think it would work.”

“That was awesome!" Scott exclaims excitedly, getting up from the ground, leaves sticking all over his chest and back from the training field’s soil. "I flew like, ten feet in the air! Are you sure you need to study this for your Defensive and Hiding Magic 101 class? It sounds a bit advanced."

“Oh, of course not,” Stiles laughs. “This is just me having some fun. The spells they teach us are incredibly boring, and Professor Jenkins is a surly old woman that doesn't allow anyone to test some new spells in her class. Hence why I'm here with you."

“Don’t you have to train the other spells for the exam you have this Thursday?” Scott asks, brushing the leaves off his shirt. “You said you wanted to ace it because the teacher hates you and you want to prove her that you’re a good student.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles sighs. “But the spells are _so_ boring,” he complains. “But okay, let’s try this. It’s a pretty basic spell, but Professor Jenkins will definitely ask for it.” He pauses, adjusting his stances. “ _Inobservabilis_ ,” Stiles says, believing that the spell is going to work, picturing it working in his mind and focusing on building any strong emotion that comes to him.

And that’s the tricky part about being a spark. Even though Stiles' is an incredibly powerful spark, or so Deaton told him, having power and actually being able to use it are totally different things. The key to casting spells as a spark is belief; to cast any spell you don't simply have to be a spark, you have to believe that what you're trying to do _is_ going to happen, you have to picture it perfectly in your head for it to actually come true. Which sounds easy in theory, but the truth is that you can't have a single drop of self doubt in yourself, which turns the spell casting a bit of a challenge for Stiles, who definitely has become an a lot less insecure person since he started his training, but still struggles with it from time to time.

Another important part of a spark's power is emotion. Emotions are heavily tied to your spell; strong emotions like love, anger, hatred, desperation, trigger the magic to work more powerfully. Which meant that Stiles in Beacon Hills Supernatural University has classes solely for emotion control, which most of the students flunk, being the hardest one for all the sparks on campus.

Those two key things about casting spells, emotion and belief, were so important that Stiles' powers manifested themselves without him actually saying any of the Latin words that were used to cast spells.

He had been in a fight with Jackson in the first week of his senior year in high school, and in that day he was feeling particularly irritated and on edge, since his father had sprained his ankle while on shift the day before. It also didn't help that Jackson was a grade A asshole all the time, and in the middle of their fight, Stiles let his imagination fueled by his ADHD run wild and started imagining Jackson's stupid perfect hair catching fire. His thoughts were so strong, and his imagination was so vivid that he actually believed that that would happen, until Jackson's hair was actually combusted into flames.

Stiles didn't even know what a spark was back then, because they are incredibly rare--to his luck, BHSU being the only university in the country that has a spark training course available. When he took the matter to Deaton, one of the supernatural experts in Beacon Hills who was a druid himself, Deaton told him, impressed, how he was a spark, and a very powerful one, if he could conjure fire without even saying a spell.

"Okay, Scott, can you catch my scent? Hear my heartbeat?" Stiles asks, when he thinks the spell is done.

Scott sniffs the air, pauses and Stiles knows that he's paying attention to the sounds around him.

"Huh, nope," Scott admits, beaming proudly at Stiles. “And I’m an alpha! This is great, Stiles, it will be pretty awesome when you work as a cop.”

Scott being supernatural himself is actually a blessing in Stiles’ life, because when he found out that about being a spark, he quickly got intensely worried about going to college on his own, since he would have to go to a supernatural university and Scott would probably end up going to Berkeley, especially since they both had since little promised to each other that they were going to the same college, not willing to let each other's side at all.

But thankfully, or well, maybe not so thankfully at first for Scott, Scott, along with Lydia, got bitten by a rogue alpha a little while later after Stiles found out about being supernatural. The alpha was called Peter Hale, and before he could do any more damage he was put down by his nephew Derek, with the permission of the government, who then became an alpha himself. After Peter's bite, Scott became an omega, refusing to join Derek's pack, and then a year later he became the first true alpha documented since the supernatural community came to everyone's attention in 1987.

“There are a few more handful spells that I need to train but they are all so boring,” Stiles complains, frowning. “First, lemme try this spell first though.” He adjusts his stances, trying to get prepared for the spell. “This is like, really hard magic but I saw this in the advanced class' book and I wanted to try it. I’m going to try to turn invisible, so, you know, tell me if you can see me.”

“Oh, invisible?” Scott says excitedly. “Bring it on.”

“ _Invisibilitatem_ ,” Stiles says, picturing his magic working.

When he thinks he’s done with the spell, Scott exclaims, “Oh, man, it worked!”

“Really?” Stiles says excitedly, bouncing on his feet. “Can you see this?”

Stiles starts dancing then, just like he dances at parties. He knows he dances ridiculously, but he doesn’t care, and he makes sure to dance even worse than he usually dances, thrusting his hips in a careless motion and throwing his hands in the air.

“Stiles, are you training for your spark class or are you rehearsing for your So You Think You Can Dance audition?” comes a voice from behind him.

“Ahhh!” Stiles shouts, getting his limbs tangled around each other and falling to the ground.

When he looks over Scott and Erica are laughing their asses off, Scott with teardrops in his eyes. 

“Fucking hell, Scott, why did you tell me the spell didn’t work?!”

“S-sorry,” Scott says between laughs. “It’s just, I just wanted to see what you’re gonna do and it was _hilarious_ , Stiles.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “This is not funny.”

“Oh, but it is,” Erica says, amused.

“Yeah, it definitely is,” Scott says, helping Stiles get up from the ground with an extended hand.

“But joke aside, boys,” Erica says. “I was training with the boys a few yards behind and saw you guys here and I wanted to ask: are you coming to the Clark pack’s party on Friday? Our two packs are coming.”

And the weird thing about their group of friends is that when Erica says _our two packs_ , she really means as if everyone belongs to both packs, even though in theory everyone has their own.

Their group of friends is unusual by everyone's standards, because with most group of werewolves, packs don't tend to mix together. Because of that, their group was very known on campus for having two different packs with two different alphas with being so close and friends with each other. Some more conservative weres, who were born and raised in big packs, thought that wasn't good for the pack dynamics, if the whole pack showed as much intimacy with members of other packs as their group did with each other.

However, most of the students and professors praised their great display of how werecreatures’ dynamics and packs should work nowadays, when there weren't a lot of threats to the supernatural after their discover, when before that supernatural folks needed to herd together in big families and packs to protect themselves.

But granted, the two packs weren't very friendly at first. That was more of a slow development.

To start with, Scott wasn't even an alpha when Stiles and he met Derek. When Scott and Lydia were recently bit and Derek became an alpha, Derek insisted that they should join his pack, wanted that at any cost. He was a dick to Stiles and Scott then, stalked them, helped Scott deal with his newly acquired werewolf powers in the least nice way possible. It was inevitable that Stiles and Scott ended up hating him fiercely.

Then Derek bit Erica, Isaac, Boyd and Jackson, and Stiles and Scott were sure he did that just to spite them.

But then they all went to college together, and that changed a few things. 

Lydia started dating Jackson again by the end of their senior year, and since Lydia had become Stiles and Scott's friend, they both were dragged into Derek's pack activities to support Lydia, and in the end they all became friends.

Stiles and Scott learned that back in their senior year, Derek had been suffering from the death of his sister Laura, and also all of his family, and he had his reasons to bite who he bit. He was lonely, terribly so, and the attempts of making Scott join his pack was only his way of trying to get his family back again, which he finally got when he bit the humans who would eventually turn into his most loyal pack.

But even after they all became friends, Scott never joined Derek's pack. Until he didn't need to, because a few months later he gained alpha powers, surprising everyone with the title of true alpha. In their first summer vacation from college, too, he gained his first beta, Liam, a boy he saved he saved from being eaten by a wendigo before his freshman year of college.

They were almost all very good friends, even Scott letting go of his first animosity towards Derek, becoming great friends with him, both helping each other out in how they dealt with their own packs; Derek teaching Scott more werewolf related lore, since he had been a werewolf since birth, and Scott teaching Derek how to be more tactile with his betas.

The only two people who never, in any circumstance, got along were Stiles and Derek.

It’s a consensus between their group of friends that you can’t let Stiles and Derek alone in the same room, unless you want them to fight. Stiles hates Derek, and he knows for a fact that it’s completely mutual. Not even after everyone became friends, they never got along; not that they _want_ to get along. It doesn’t help that Stiles enjoys to rile Derek up as much as he can, and Derek in return is as much as an asshole to him as Stiles is to Derek. They’ve engaged in countless fights , and it’s not unusual for them to use their magic or werewolf strength into them.

"Please don't tell me Derek is coming to the party too," Stiles says to Erica, grimacing.

Derek isn't a big party person, but if Erica meant that _all the two packs_ were coming, than obviously Derek was coming too. Which is never a good idea because Stiles + Derek + drunkenness = not a good combination. That usually means they’re asking for trouble.

"Don't look so sad, Stiles," Erica says, mocking Stiles’ expression with a pout. "Don't tell me you don't want to watch Derek dance in his extremely tight jeans."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Stiles says, scoffing. "The only thing I want to watch Derek doing is walking far away from me."

Erica laughs. "You know, you can lie all you want, but all the werewolves within a 10 mile range of you two know that you guys have a raging boner for each other."

"Yeah, buddy, sorry," Scott agrees apologetic. That fucker. "I know you hate him, but there's no denying that you want to have sex with him. Both of you want that, actually. It's even disconcerting to be in the same room as you sometimes, the room smells like arousal and sexual tension and these are things I've never wanted to smell coming from either of you."

Okay, so sue him. Stiles has a hate boner for Derek Freaking Hale.

It's not his fault, okay? Stiles is sure that Derek would be able to make nuns _and_ priests break their vows of celibacy. Derek has the perfect combination of a jawline that could chisel granite, stubble as flawless as the ones you see in Hollywood stars' faces and body as toned as those from health men magazines. Not to mention how all of that combined with his tortured soul persona makes him able to be described as "mysterious in the hottest way possible", with a shade of serial killer look that someone who doesn't know him would assume that he kills people in his spare time.

Derek is probably the hottest person on campus in Stiles' opinion, but that _definitely_ doesn't mean that Stiles is jumping into the chance of ever getting close to his junk in a nice way. Nuh-huh, Stiles is a man of his word, and when he claims that he hates Derek, he freaking _means_ it, and that doesn't mean boning him as soon as the opportunity arises.

"I'm just saying, you guys should stop with this nonsense and screw your brains off someday," Erica comments. "It'll be good for you. Maybe you guys will eventually stop with this stupidity of hating each other's guts and acting like 5-year-olds whenever you're around each other. In fact, I'm pretty sure your attitude towards each other is pretty much sexual tension, which everyone's noses could attest for."

"I have no idea what you guys are talking about," Stiles says stubbornly. "Getting up close and personal with Derek's _anything_ is something that only happens in my nightmares, okay? Not to mention that I probably have more sexual tension with a tree than with Derek."

Scott and Erica both snort at that.

"Seriously, guys! I hate him! I do _not_ want to do anything fun with Derek Hale that doesn't involve him getting hurt!" Stiles exclaims vehemently.

"Oh, but I'm sure that the sex between you two will leave you both sore and with way too many bruises, don't worry," Erica winks.

Stiles groans, covering his face with his hands. "Whatever, you two. I give up. Think whatever you want.” He throws his hands in the air in exasperation. “But answering your question, Erica, Scott and I are coming to the party on Friday, yes.”

“Good.” Erica nods. “And don’t you wear dare plaid to this party, Stiles. Lydia will castrate you if she sees you dressing so poorly when she took you shopping last month after a fashion intervention.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Sure, sure, whatever you say,” he says, even though he fully intends on wearing his favorite plaid outfit.

___________________________________

"Woah, Scott, you lookin' good, buddy," Stiles comments when Scott leaves his bedroom for them to head to the party, which, sadly, is on the other side of the campus.

Scott preens, smiling proudly at himself and flattening his American flag jacket. 

"Oh you know, Kira is going to be there... I want to make a good impression."

"Weren't you supposed to be looking after your new beta?" Stiles asks. "You only bit him a few months ago, and if he drinks anything laced with wolfsbane he'll shift in the middle of the party and cause a ruckus."

"I think he can handle himself for one night," Scott says. "We've been working on getting him an anchor, and we think it's the feeling of being good enough, you know? He's very insecure and he always blames himself for everything, and that feeling seems to be enough to ground him."

"That's a good thing," Stiles agrees. "Better than being someone else, right? Because when you lose them, then you don’t have your anchor anymore."

"Yeah, exactly," Scott says nodding, and then he finally seems to notice Stiles' outfit, because he scrunches his nose in disapproval. "Are you really sure you want to wear your studmuffin shirt, Stiles? You shrunk it down last time you washed it, I can see your happy trail this way. Not to mention that I think that graphic shirts are a little bit too much high school, don't you think?"

"Hey! Don't diss my shirt!" Stiles says defensively. "I'll tell you that I have a good history with this shirt, okay? I wore this shirt the time I set fire to Jackson's hair, I wore this shirt on the day I lost my virginity to Lydia. This shirt has only brought me good things, I consider that it gives me luck."

Scott shakes his head in disapproval. "Whatever you say. At least the plaid you're wearing is new."

"This plaid isn't only new, it's also awesome!" Stiles says excitedly. "It was the only plaid Lydia allowed me to buy last month, and only because this is from Urban Outfitters. But lemme tell you this is probably my favorite plaid shirt I own now. Lydia definitely has good taste."

"You are so weird with your addiction to plaid," Scott says amused.

"Well, no one can pull off dashing outfit like you and the rest of the packs. I still have the leather jacket Erica gave me as a birthday present but whenever I try to wear it, it just feels off."

"Okay, Stiles, but don't go crying to me tomorrow that you didn't get laid."

"Oh come on, I have my personality for that!" Stiles says getting his keys and walking to the door.

Scott only snorts in response, which causes Stiles to shoot a glare at his direction. But then the matter is forgotten because they're heading to the party, which is a good thirty minute walk, and there’s no way he’s driving his car there when he intends on getting shit faced tonight.

________________________________________

When they get to the house a few minutes later, the place is already packed, tons of people already drunk and a few of them already making out in the corners.

As soon as they set foot to the place, Scott and he head to the booze, which is common of them. Stiles pours a large quantity of vodka in a cup with coke while Scott serves himself from an orange juice jar with a label that reads "wolfsbane." 

Stiles always makes fun of Scott because he always drinks the juices and sodas laced with wolfsbane, not the actual alcohol drinks, but Scott claims that there is no point in suffering the terrible taste of alcohol if you're not even going to get drunk from it. Stiles understands him, though, because he agrees that he wouldn't drink any alcoholic beverages if they didn't make him drunk.

When they're both served, they head to the living room, where at least some of the pack is supposed to be. Or at least Boyd, Erica, Isaac or Derek, since they all live on the same apartment complex not even five minutes away from the Clark pack's house.

Soon enough, they find Erica standing talking to Boyd and Isaac. Stiles waves madly at her from a distance while he approaches her and when she spots him, she quickly takes a look at his clothes and grimaces.

"What the hell do you think you're wearing, Stiles?" Erica says disapprovingly when Stiles and Scott stop in front of her, Boyd and Isaac.

"Oh, just, you know, my usual attire?" Stiles says shrugging.

"Lydia is going to kill you, I can already tell," she says shaking her head, and then she looks ahead. "Oh no, here she comes."

Stiles turns around to see Lydia walking with Jackson by her side looking absolutely stunning, wearing a purple dress with killer stilettos and hair braided into a complicated style that Stiles knows there is a name for.

"Please tell me I'm having hallucinations and you're not wearing what I think you're wearing," Lydia says, scrunching her nose.

"But Lydia! This is my lucky shirt! I got laid for the first time wearing it, I know you remember."

"I do, but I'm starting to question my sanity in that occasion," Lydia says pointedly.

"Oh come on, you love me," Stiles says sweetly.

"Oh but you can bet I do. If I'm willing to be seen with you while you wear this atrocity, I damn well do."

Stiles laughs, stepping and wrapping her in a hug. "That is an incredible love declaration, coming from you," he says softly against her hair. "By the way, you look amazing," he says stepping away.

"Of course, I always look amazing," she says smiling sharply, but Stiles knows that she's grateful for the compliment.

Stiles looks over at Jackson, who looks highly amused, and by now he already is not even bothered by Stiles and Lydia's past relationship, if you could it call that. Jackson and Lydia are perfect for each other, Stiles knows, as much as Stiles thinks Jackson is a douchebag most of time. Stiles doesn't even dislike Jackson anymore, the way he did in high school, they're almost friends nowadays, Stiles having focused his hatred on someone else, this case being Derek.

After that, though, the conversation between their group flows naturally. Stiles tells them about how he aced his test, obviously, and how the teacher even gave him an extra grade; Lydia tells them about her guidance counselor trying to convince her to change her major, that a profession related to law enforcement would be a lot more useful with her banshee powers but she wants nothing to do with it; Scott, who's pre-med, tells them about his class when his teacher told them when it's okay or not to turn a patient when he's about to die, and how it's crucial that the patient has stated they're allowed to be turned into a werecreature.

Eventually, though, Isaac leaves to find the girl he met at his Sexuality class, and Scott also leaves to finally find Kira, whom he has been dying to meet. And as much as Stiles loves his friends, he doesn't want to be with Erica, Boyd, Lydia and Jackson, all of them paired into couples, all on his own, because he he knows with experience that he'll turn into not even the third, but the fifth wheel.

He quickly wanders to the rest of the packed room, trying to find someone he knows and would be interesting, until he finds Jordan Parrish alone in a corner, just drinking his drink and looking around.

Parrish, who Stiles never got used to calling Jordan after he was the TA for his Introduction to Law class, had been Stiles' crush for a long while until they hooked up at the end of Stiles' freshmen year. It had been fantastic sex, and Parrish had gotten off to Stiles moaning his surname instead of Jordan. Not to mention that Parrish is stunningly beautiful, also an incredible mystery since no one knew just exactly _what_ supernatural being he was.

Stiles had never seen him ever since, because back then Parrish had been a senior and then he graduated. Stiles didn't even know that he was back in BHSU, but he knows that he's probably in grad school now.

Stiles doesn't waste his opportunity, though, and decides to try to talk to him and coax another one-night stand from him. Because if he has a chance of having sex as great as he had with Parrish, he won't let it slip from his fingers.

"Hey, Parrish, how are you?" Stiles says easily, sliding down by his side and smiling openly to him. "I thought you graduated, what are you doing here?"

"Hey, Stiles!" Parrish greets him, smiling back, warm and friendly. "Oh, I decided to come back here for grad school. I love this place way too much, but when I'm done with my thesis I'm probably applying to become a cop somewhere. Maybe I'll even become one of your father's deputies."

"That would be interesting, maybe then I'll know what kind of supernatural you are," Stiles teases.

Parrish laughs. "Maybe."

"But how is grad school, having a lot of work to do?" Stiles asks, making conversation. "Your thesis must be pretty interesting, from what your opinions on my classes showed."

"Grad school is tough work, but I couldn't be happier," Parrish says. "And my thesis is a little bit unusual, but I'd like to even publish it someday. It's about non-consensual knotting and its possible criminalization."

Stiles frowns, confused. "But didn't you graduate with a minor in Werewolf Law? Last I knew werewolves didn't knot."

"Well, technically they don't, but that has more to do with their nature," Parrish says, but doesn't develop the thought any further. "My thesis is mostly about other werecreatures where knotting is fairly more common, like werecoyotes and werejaguars. There have been a lot of cases in which males and females have been being knotted without their consent, which we don't have a lot of laws about since knotting is supposed to be something intimate and not a lot of beings are willing to try with casual partners. If they were going to be traditional, they would only knot their husbands and wives."

Stiles isn't surprised to hear that that hasn't been criminalized yet, because knotting is a big taboo on the country still. Mostly because their country is a fairly prude one, and there is still a bit of prejudice against supernatural beings. Stiles, though, can't deny that he hasn't seen his fair of knotting porn, and has masturbated to it countless times--not that he would admit that to a lot of people.

"That is pretty terrible, yeah," Stiles agrees.

"But, Stiles, could you do me a favor?" Parrish asks, changing the subject.

"Sure, yeah, absolutely," Stiles nods vehemently, anything to please him.

"You know Derek Hale, right?" Parrish nods to the other side of the room, while Stiles sees that Derek is chatting with Scott.

"Yeah, I do," Stiles confirms, not sure if he's going to like where this conversation is going.

"Do you know if he's single?" Parrish questions, sounding hopeful.

Stiles' stomach drops.

_Of course_ Derek would fuck up with his chances of hooking up with his former TA, that was one of the best people in bed Stiles had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. That is exactly something that would happen to him.

"I don't think so," Stiles manages, trying not to sound as bitter as he feels.

"Could you, I don't know, try to talk to him and tell him about me?" Parrish asks unsure, sounding shy like Stiles knows he is--if it wasn't for Stiles having drunk way too much last time they met and being way too forward, they wouldn't have hooked up at all.

"Sure," Stiles tries to say, smiling nervously and trying not to make it seem fake. "I'll-- Yeah, I'll talk to him."

"Thank you so much, Stiles," Parrish says, giving a pleased smile.

Stiles has no idea what he's going to do after that, but Parrish keeps giving him an expectant look and Stiles knows he's supposed to talk to Derek right now, while Parrish watches him try to hook them up when the last thing in existence he wants is that. He'd rather have sex with Derek than watch fucking Derek hookup with beautiful, amazing, cute Parrish.

But even then, he doesn't think he has an option other than go there and pretend he's helping Parrish out, even though he's not sure he would be able not to get in a fight with Derek in this state of mind, that is extremely bitter and pissed about Derek's existence.

He goes there, though, nods in Parrish's direction and walks to where Derek and Scott seem to be having a conversation of something werewolf related.

"Hey, Scotty, weren't you going to find Kira?" Stiles asks, trying to find an excuse to break their conversation.

"Oh, I tried," Scott says, sounding sad. "But she's nowhere to be seen. But now that you mention it, I think she might have already arrived here by now."

And then Scott is taking a look on the room, trying to find Kira, which he seems to do because his face lightens up and he displays the trademark adorable smile of his.

"Oh, there she is," he says, pointing to the direction of a dark haired girl with a shirt and comic book pants. Scott apparently has pretty good taste in women, and Stiles already approves of her, if she likes comic books at least one tenth of how much Stiles does.

"There you go, buddy," Stiles says, clapping his hand on Scott's shoulder and pushing him to her direction.

"Okay, I'm going," Scott says, starting to sound nervous. "Please don't kill each other while I'm gone."

Stiles snorts, and then Scott is gone, walking to Kira, who, to Scott's luck, is surprisingly alone.

With Scott having left, Stiles remembers just what he's supposed to be doing here, and at the memory he starts grimacing to himself, displeased with the situation and anger welling inside him.

Stiles is also drunk, by now, having drunk his share of vodka, and that makes his emotions a little harder to control. Derek, Stiles notices, doesn't seem to be sober either from what the half empty cup of what seems like whiskey and his flushed cheeks.

“Did you shrink that shirt on purpose, Stilinski?” Derek scoffs, breaking Stiles’ from his nervous thoughts and waving his hand in Stiles’ direction. “Not to mention, studmuffin? In what universe are you considered a studmuffin? Last I knew getting laid for you was a hardship.”

“Ha ha ha,” Stiles deadpans, rolling his eyes. “For your information, I’m quite popular with the ladies _and_ lads. Have you forgotten that I boned your cousin?” Stiles comments smirking, because he knows how much Derek hates when Stiles mentions that. “And lemme tell you, she seemed to love it. Clawed my back until it was almost bleeding, not to mention that she was quite a screamer, I’m surprised you never heard it from your apartment, even though it’s a few miles away from mine.”

Derek shoots him a murderous glare, flexing his free hand.

“Are you talking about Malia? Who dumped you to have an affair with Lydia?” Derek provokes. “Who in the end ended up having countless threesomes with Lydia _and_ Jackson? That cousin?”

Stiles feels the anger that was already there because of the Parrish incident building up even more strongly in his chest. He feels himself clenching his hands into fists, in a way to stop himself from punching him in the face and cause a turmoil in the party. It doesn’t help that he’s drunk, either, but Stiles’ desire to punch Derek in the face probably never diminishes. 

“Look who’s saying this, Mr I-Can’t-Have-a-Functional-Relationship. Do I need to remember you that your first relationship ended with her dead, your second she was a psychotic murderer who set your house on fire and killed all your family and, oh, need I mention Braeden, the bounty hunter who left you because she found someone else with more money?” Stiles smiles devilishly. “Sorry for having a more functional relationship than you that ended with a _real_ reason that it sure isn’t because the sex wasn’t good.”

Stiles knows that that was a low blow, he’s well aware of it. He isn’t surprised, either, when Derek takes a few steps forward in his direction, eyes glowing a bright red and expression murderous. Stiles can’t help, though, but feel a little bit of arousal and thrill fill his body, and he doesn’t even take a step back, not feeling afraid but if he’s honest with himself, feeling even a bit excited.

“Shut the fuck up, Stilinski,” Derek hisses, their foreheads less than half a dozen of inches apart.

“Oh yeah, big guy?” Stiles says, stuffing his chest in defiance, licking his mouth once and then finally saying, “Make me.”

Stiles watches Derek’s eyes track the motion of his tongue on his own lips, nostrils flaring in sequence and eyes flashing red once again. Stiles expects to be punched, shoved to the ground, but the next thing that happens is something completely unforeseen: Derek grabs Stiles by his shirt in a strong grip, and instead of shoving him Derek only brings him closer and makes their lips clash together in a rough kiss, teeth grinding together and pain soaring on the soft skin of Stiles' lips.

Derek might not have punched him, but the kiss almost feels as aggressive as it. Derek forces his entrance into Stiles' mouth almost as if Stiles isn't totally willing, and as their tongues first meet, they both moan breathless against each other's mouths. Derek's hands, having traveled from Stiles' shoulders, also show the anger filling their bodies, as their grip is strong enough to leave bruises on Stiles' hips.

Stiles isn't any less gentle though, he uses one hand to grasp firmly at Derek's hair, that is in the exact length to be pulled. He isn't tame about it either, using all the strength in his hand to make sure that Derek understands just how much Stiles hates him, even though he's obviously enjoying everything they're doing.

As much as Stiles said to Erica that he would never have sex with Derek, that was a complete lie. Stiles has thought more about what is happening right now than he would admit to anyone. This exact scene has played in Stiles' mind countless times while he masturbated, and the reality isn’t any less intense, pleasurable or filled with anger.

After a few minutes of just kissing each other fervently, never seeming to stop to take a breath, Stiles retreats his tongue for a moment only to get Derek's bottom lip against his teeth and bite it with all the strength he can muster, wishing that Derek wasn't a werewolf only so he could see his lip bruised for the next days, knowing that he was the one to damage Derek like that.

Derek's reaction is delicious, because he groans soundly and makes his grip on Stiles' hips even stronger. He doesn't stop there, though, because before Stiles can register he's being shoved against the nearest wall, head hitting against it pretty painfully, which only causes him to tighten his grip on Derek's hair and pull it.

"You're infuriating," Derek growls, eyes red as he looks directly into Stiles' eyes.

That causes Stiles to shiver, and his dick, now fully hard, gives a twitch in interest. It doesn't help that Derek moves then to Stiles' neck, licking a stripe of pale skin and sucking a bruise that Stiles knows that will be black the next morning, suction so strong that it even hurts. 

"I hate you," Stiles breathes passionately, grip still strong on Derek's hair.

"The feeling is mutual," Derek says against his skin, before sinking down his blunt teeth in Stiles' flesh.

Stiles mewls at that, thrusting his hip against Derek's and feeling his own hard on brush against Derek's, making him close his eyes and focus on the sensation.

He wants more than anything to have sex with Derek right now, so much his head is clouded with lust, not being able to process things aright, like how good of an idea is to have sex with Derek right now, how things are going to turn out for them the next morning. He doesn't even think about it, it doesn't cross his mind, he just knows that he wants to get off his clothes and get Derek's dick inside him more than anything he’s ever wanted in his life.

"Fuck," Derek mutters in Stiles' ear, thrusting his hips against Stiles' and letting out little breaths every time their dicks make contact through the fabric of their pants.

"We need--" Derek tries to say, but favors to nib, no, bite Stiles' bottom lip with as much force as Stiles did, making Stiles whimper loudly at the pain and pleasure mixed together. "We need to go to my apartment."

Stiles couldn't agree fast enough, nodding his head manically and saying rushed, "God, ah--" he stops to moan as Derek sucks Stiles' earlobe into his mouth. "Yes, yes, Derek, come on."

Derek seems to not mind about Stiles' reply because he keeps his mouth on Stiles' earlobe, sucking on it. Until he finally gnaws at the flesh, Stiles feeling as if it's almost tearing, and then retreats.

Derek shoots him a wolfish grin, saying, "Come on." 

Stiles doesn't have to wait to follow, and they make their way out of the party to Derek's apartment. 

The walk takes less than five minutes, Stiles and Derek don’t look at each other's faces the entire time, without talking a single thing to each other. But as soon as they get into Derek's apartment and the door is closed, Derek drags Stiles by his collar and leads him to his bedroom, pushing him forcefully to the bed when they get there.

Still standing up, Derek starts to discard his clothes in a fast motion, and Stiles clumsily follows, drunk enough not to be able to take off his clothes as fast as Derek. It doesn't help, either, how he gets distracted watching Derek, especially when Derek shoves his boxer briefs down his ankles and his cock jumps, uncut and glistening with the pre-come accumulated on its head.

Derek, when completely naked, doesn't waste his time in jumping on the bed and getting rid of Stiles' clothes. Stiles' boxers are shoved down in a swift motion, but his studmuffin shirt has a different ending: Derek uses his claws to tear it in pieces before pinning Stiles down to the bed.

"Fucking hell, that was my fucking shirt, Derek!" Stiles exclaims indignantly, trying to shove Derek away in a fit of anger.

Derek has none of it, though, because his hands keep strong on Stiles' body, making sure that he stays lying down.

The bastard only smirks at Stiles' outrage, lowering himself until he has his mouth on Stiles' neck. Stiles' protests die out when he feels the breath on his skin, eliciting goosebumps that travel through all his body.

"That shirt was ridiculous," Derek growls, before biting down on Stiles' neck a bit more gently than the first time he did. "Do you have to wear shirts that make the start of your happy trail appear? Are you such a little slut for me that you do these things just to infuriate me? To make me want to punch you and pin you to the wall and fuck you until you're raw and begging like a little bitch to come?”

Stiles gulps, arousal shooting through his body like never before. 

"Fuck you," Stiles moans, wishing more than anything that Derek would just touch his dick.

"I'll take that as a yes," Derek says, smirking.

And then Derek is manhandling Stiles, grabbing him by his middle until he's lying on his stomach, face hidden in Derek's bed's pillows and staying there as one of Derek’s hand presses him firmly on the bed. 

The new position makes Stiles close his eyes in pleasure, because his throbbing cock, that wasn't getting any sort of friction before, is now trapped between Stiles' body and the bed, which causes it to have a lot more friction than it was getting. But even then, Stiles wants to protest, because Derek was supposed to _touch_ him, not flip him over and forget about his cock completely.

Stiles' protests die in his throat, though, when he feels a fingertrip circling his asshole, just brushing against the sensitive skin, exploring the area. Stiles' breath hitches at that, and he feels himself shiver in anticipation for what Derek has in store for him.

He isn't disappointed when the pressure comes. It's not gentle, not at all, and it couldn't be for it to get some results, since there isn't a single drop of lube between their skins. The finger dips inside him swiftly, and Stiles can't help but moan loudly at the sensation, that is amazing even without lube, since Stiles has done his fair share of anal sex and his hole is stretched well enough for it.

"Don't even need lube, eh?" Derek says, as he slides his finger in and out of Stiles fastly, with no tenderness in the motion, exploring his ass with the digit and making Stiles whimper just at that small sensation.

Stiles can't help himself when he shoves his ass up into Derek's touch, wanting the finger to go deeper and deeper, wanting just _more_. And that is a wise choice because at that Derek's finger in its motion quickly hits Stiles' prostate, making Stiles shout and grip the sheets.

"Look at you, so eager and desperate to take my finger, shoving your ass up," Derek says, and Stiles can hear the smirk behind his tone even if he can't see it. "You don't even need lube to be moaning like a wanton whore."

"Is that all you have, big guy, just one little finger?" Stiles pushes, challenging him.

"No," Derek says, punctuating that with a particular strong jab of his finger. "But for that I'm going to need lube if I don't want Scott coming after me tomorrow when you can't walk from too much pain."

And fuck, if that isn't hot to hear?

"Then tell me, oh mighty sex god, what the hell are you waiting for to get the damn lube?" Stiles questions, wanting to get from the talking to the actually _doing_.

And even if they _are_ having sex right now, they both still hate each other, and the sex they're having is nothing less than angry and hate sex. Which shows when, at Stiles' sarcastic nickname, Derek's reaction is to slap his hand against Stiles' ass, making a loud noise echo in the room.

Stiles' reaction is immediate: he mewls at the pain, presenting his ass in a way of asking for more, all of that not with much of his own permission, just having let go of his motions and focusing on the pleasure.

"Of course you'd like to get spanked," Derek comments, sounding highly pleased, while he rubs his free hand on the place that had just gotten the blow.

"If you think you can make me come just from spanking my ass, you better think again," Stiles hisses, impatient.

And seemingly only in retaliation, Derek smacks his hand on Stiles' ass again, not stopping his only finger.

Stiles hisses in a mix of pleasure and pain, but when he opens his mouth to complain about Derek not actually doing anything more to make him come, Derek retreats his finger and moves to the other side of the bed, supposedly to get the lube.

And Stiles supposes right, because Derek comes back a few seconds later and in one go presses two fingertips coated with lube inside Stiles, making him gasp. He's already so hard that he knows he's leaking all over Derek's sheets, and the sensation of Derek's fingers inside him only makes him even more impatient, just wanting to shout and demand for Derek to fuck him already.

The fingers are violent, too, lacking any finesse, just probing inside and getting the prepping over with, because apparently neither of them has any patience left and just want to get to the fucking until the bed is breaking under them.

It only takes a moment though, because then the fingers are retreating, and in a few seconds the head of Derek's cock is aligned with Stiles' entrance.

The first thrust is not at all gentle; it's rough, fast, and sends sparks of pleasure through Stiles' whole body. Derek doesn't even stop to let Stiles get accustomed with the feel of his cock inside him; when he bottoms out, he quickly pulls out only to jam his body again inside Stiles. He doesn't stop there, either, he continues the fast motion, jabbing in and out of Stiles' body repeatedly in a boisterous manner, making the room fill with the noises of their flesh hitting together with each and every thrust.

But even then, to Stiles it isn't enough.

"Is that all you've got, huh, Derek?" Stiles pushes, not being able to help himself and letting out a moan in sequence from this particular heavy thrust.

"Fucking hell," Derek mutters, out of breath, and then brings his hand to Stiles' ass in a fast motion, making a loud noise echo in the room along with the one from the thrusts.

But then Derek is pulling out and no, no, no, that was the opposite of what Stiles was intending to do.

Stiles is about to protest when Derek manhandles him until he's lying on his back, Derek grabbing his dick and moving it to Stiles' entrance in an agile motion, thrusting again but this time with much more vigor. 

Stiles’ eyes roll back into his skull with pleasure, hands gripping the sheets so strongly his knuckles turn white. And to make things better, Derek doesn't stop there, because then the one hand he's not using to hold himself wraps around Stiles' throat, squeezing it and making Stiles sob at the sensation, cock visibly shooting a large wave of pre-come.

As Derek plunges in and out of Stiles' body, Stiles's hands travel to Derek's back, that is wet with sweat from the exertion, to reciprocate the motion. He sinks his nails into Derek's skin, dragging them over all the length of his tanned back. Derek's reaction is instantaneous: he tightens the grip on Stiles' neck, so much that he's almost choking, and the next few thrusts make Stiles' ass hurt from how much Derek uses his werewolf strength.

Stiles is only left keening on the bed, drowning on the feeling of Derek fucking him with all he has and eyes watering a little from almost choking.

After awhile though, Derek's thrusts start growing more erratic, even though with still enough strength to break someone who wasn't prepared for it, or well, someone who wasn't as willing as Stiles was, who thinks that this is probably one of the best sex of his whole life.

Derek's hand leaves Stiles' throat eventually, though, because then he's bending over and mouthing on Stiles' neck, sucking even another bruise there on the pale skin. Stiles takes that as an invitation to wrap his hand on Derek's hair and pull it, even though with no intention to make Derek move from his neck.

Stiles can feel his orgasm building up slowly, and he knows that Derek is near from coming too.

But then, suddenly, Stiles starts feeling some pain from where Derek is penetrating him, right at his rim, and he thinks for a second that it even feels like Derek's cock might be growing as they fuck.

"Jesus christ, what is even happening to your dick, Derek?" Stiles gasps, not really complaining about it because the sensation doesn't bring only pain, but also a fuck ton of pleasure.

Which then makes him realize.

"What the fuck, Derek, _are you knotting me_?!" Stiles exclaims confused, not fully well knowing if that's exactly what's happening.

But at Derek's reaction, Stiles knows that his assumptions were correct, because Derek suddenly stops everything he was doing and starts retreating from Stiles' body.

"Oh, no, no, no," Stiles says vehemently, grabbing Derek by his middle and bringing him inside again. "If you started knotting me, then you better fucking finish it, big guy. I want to come whether it's with a knot or not."

That's not exactly a lie, but it's not exactly the truth either. Stiles getting knotted has been one of his sexual fantasies since he was old enough to go looking for kinky porn on the internet, finding all sorts of things. If he's honest with himself, being knotted is probably on his top 5 sexual fantasies. And having sex with Derek? Also on his top 5 sexual fantasies, so being knotted by Derek is definitely one of Stiles' dream realizations.

Apparently, for Derek, Stiles' reassurance was enough, because he plunges his dick inside once again, the base of his shaft stretching Stiles wide. Derek fucks him like an animal too, eyes glowing red as each drag of his swelling cock drives Stiles insane, making him want to cry from pleasure. Derek, during that, has been resumed to just a bunch of growls and pants, and Stiles can feel how his claws poked out, and are now dangerously close to breaking the skin of Stiles' chest.

Being knotted is everything Stiles wanted and more, the Derek's growing knot pushing inside him and out with each thrust causing a blissful mix of pain and pleasure that Stiles didn't know he needed so much. He can't even control himself when he starts sobbing a litany of _Fuck_ s and _Derek_ s, too caught up on the feeling of the stretch and Derek's dick and knot filling him up. And when in a particular thrust Derek hits all Stiles' right spots, he can't help when he arches his back and gives a loud shout, tears welling in his eyes from how good the sensation is.

As the thrusts go, withdrawing out of Stiles keeps getting harder and harder each time, since Derek's knot keeps continuously growing in a fast pace. And then Derek is pulling out one last time and pushing in again, causing stars to appear in Stiles' vision, and Derek is coming as he stretches his mouth around Stiles' neck to bite it with a strength worthy of a werewolf, even if with blunt teeth.

The accumulated pain of the stretch and the bite, plus Derek rolling his hips as he rides his orgasm out of himself, are enough to put Stiles on edge. His orgasm hits him like a punch to the gut, and he comes spilling his seed all over his stomach, tainting both their skins.

The position they settle after they've both come is a little bit uncomfortable, Stiles lying down on the bed and Derek lying on top of him. But since they have nowhere to go, being stuck to each other for the next hour or so, if Stiles remembers exactly about his research on knotting. He doesn't even know if werewolves are the same as other werecreatures, but he reckons that yes, even though the whole new discovery about werewolves actually being able to knot is still a little weird to him, even if he could attest that it actually happens.

"So, will you explain to me why the hell did you knot me since last I knew werewolves didn't knot?" Stiles asks, voicing his inner question.

Derek doesn't seem to want to answer that, though, because he only buries his face on Stiles' neck, in a way that makes Stiles think that he's even embarrassed, which Stiles thinks is ridiculous and only makes anger blossom in his chest.

"Don't ignore me, Derek!" Stiles demands, shaking Derek with his hands to get his attention. "I know there's something wrong and I want to know. Now. How did you knot me when werewolves don't knot? Did you know this beforehand and didn't tell me?" he pries. "Because as much as I know you hate me and it's completely mutual, not telling me is a rape scenario, and this is _not_ okay."

"No, no, it's not like that," Derek is quick to answer at said accusation, propping himself with his elbows to get eye contact with Stiles. "Werewolves can knot, but not a lot of people know about it because it's incredibly, astonishingly rare."

That Stiles could already tell, because he knew that for him not to know about it, for it not having any sort of porn on the internet, it's because it has to be something fantastically unusual.

"Are you able to actually transform into a wolf now and you didn't tell the pack?" Stiles tries to guess, because he thinks that if it's something rare, maybe only werewolves who shift into a full wolf form are able to do it, meaning they have to be an alpha and not only that, be able to do something only a small, insignificant share of alphas can do.

"No, I--" he pauses, seeming to look for words and then lowering his gaze, as if he's ashamed of what he's going to say. "Werewolves take after wolves, as our name says. Wolves in the wild only mate for life, and since knotting is something extremely personal, something that you're only supposed to do with someone you love and trust, werewolves only knot with, uh, their mates."

Stiles stays silent for a good minute, trying to understand just _what_ exactly Derek said to him. Mates? As in, soulmates? All this romantic crap? _Him and Derek?_ He can't believe in any of what Derek is saying, or at least, he doesn't _want_ to believe, because the last person he wants to have a romantic bullshit bond with is Derek freaking Hale.

He can't help the anger the surges to him from the absurdity of their situation.

"Are you telling me we just got _werewolf married_?!" Stiles exclaims angrily. 

He then tries to get away from Derek, shoving him on his chest and trying to walk away from the situation, not wanting to look in Derek's eye anymore, not wanting to see Derek _ever again_ even.

It's a futile attempt, though, because at the action, they both hiss in pain, Stiles' hole trying to stretch itself in an impossible way and Derek's knot being put too much pressure onto. Before Stiles can struggle any further, though, Derek stops him with his weight, lying down completely on Stiles and using his arms to hold himself to the bed.

"Jesus, Stiles, stop," Derek reprehends. "It's not like that, it's just..." he trails off at the loss of words, seeming more dejected at the news than angry as Stiles. "We're supposedly perfect for each other, and bound to be together no matter what happens."

Stiles snorts loudly, finding the situation even more absurd.

"'Perfect for each other'? Are you sure? Because last I knew we can't be together in the same room without wanting to punch each other's guts." He laughs at the insanity of it all. "Now what? What happens now that we're 'mates' and 'bound to be together'? Because I ain't dating you no matter what your weird werewolf instincts say. Do we have any of a say in this?"

"I don't know," Derek says distastefully.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Stiles probes. "You knew about the knotting! Did you knew we were mates before that? Weren't you supposed to know that? I thought your werewolf senses would tell you that!"

"Fucking hell, Stiles, stop with all the questions!" Derek says, glaring in Stiles direction and sounding annoyed enough to want to pull his dick off Stiles still with the knot. "No, I didn't know. I have almost as much of knowledge about mate bonds as you. My mom told me about the knotting when she gave me the sex talk, and she also mentioned how mate pairs could sense each other's feelings. But that's all I know."

"Oh, great," Stiles laughs bitterly. "Now I'm going to feel your anger towards me and get even more angry. This is great. We're going to kill each other, I can already feel it."

Derek doesn't reply anything, though, just shoots Stiles a constipated glare, mouth pursed into a straight line.

"How are you not freaking out about this?" Stiles says an octave higher. "We just got werewolf married! This is probably the worst news of my entire life! Of all people I have to be some crazy werewolf soulmates of and it's you!"

"Who said I'm not freaking out?" Derek retorts. "I'm not doing it as annoyingly and uncomposed as you. Different from you, I have better control of my emotions and I don't lash out for the minimal reasons."

"Fuck you," Stiles spits, shoving Derek, who doesn't even move.

Derek's response is glaring, eyes flashing red for a few seconds. Stiles doesn't break eye contact, just holds his gaze, raising his chin defiantly.

But at that, Derek only sighs. "Come on, let's sleep. I'm tired, It's 2 am and we had a full night. We're still going to be stuck together for a good half an hour, and I don't think anything good will come if we stay awake in each other's presences for any longer."

Stiles wants to protest, to continue their argument and complain about the fact that Derek of all people, the person he most hates in his life, is his freaking _mate_. But because Derek's words are the most reasonable choice, truth ringing in his ears, he doesn't complain or protest or angrily argue any longer, he just sighs and nods his head admitting his defeat, saying, "Fine."

Derek nods too in response, getting hold of Stiles torso and flipping them on their sides, a more comfortable position for them to sleep.

And as much as Stiles is on edge with the new discovery, sleep comes easily to him, because as Derek said, he's tired and it's late, and the intense sex has exhausted both of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek know the effects of the bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again bleep0bleep for the beta. n_n
> 
> also i'm v positive that i'll be able to finish this fic by the end of the month, or at the veery last beginning of november :)

"So, when are you going to tell me that you hooked up with Derek last night?" Scott comments offhandedly as they both walk into the training field.

Stiles was dreading this exact conversation all morning, and it was inevitable that Scott was bringing that up, even though Stiles tried his best to hide any reminiscing clue to the fact that Derek and he had hooked up. 

That morning Stiles woke up in Derek's apartment thankfully too early in the morning for Derek to be awake. He slipped out of Derek's bed and apartment in the quietest way possible, trying to avoid more than anything a conversation with Derek that would lead him to remember just what exactly their hookup meant. Which is Stiles' style, ignoring a problem until it eventually goes away. Not that that works most of the time, but he never fails to try.

When he got to his and Scott's apartment, the first thing he did was take a shower with the anti werewolf nose soap, or at least that's what Stiles calls it. The soap cleans you well enough that no matter what you've been doing before, after you're done with the shower no werecreature will know what you had been doing beforehand. Which Stiles knows it works, but apparently it wasn't enough for Scott to pick up what was happening. Or, Stiles reckons, is probably because he had to wear a turtleneck to hide all the bruises that were on Stiles' neck.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Stiles dismisses stubbornly, continuing walking and pointedly not looking in Scott's direction.

"Oh, come on, you smell way too clean to not be trying to hide with whom your hookup was last night," Scott presses, not having none of Stiles' bullshit. "Also the turtleneck, because since when do you wear turtlenecks? I'm surprised you even have that in your closet. And not to mention, you're grumpy today, and it's the kind of grumpy you only get when something happens with Derek. Which leads me to believe that either the sex wasn't good or something bad happened after."

"No, no." Stiles shakes his head. "The sex was good, it's just that I have this weird headache right now. I took a bunch of Tylenols but it's not helping."

And well, that's not a lie, because Stiles does have a headache, which is alarmingly unusual, because Stiles never gets hungover. But as much that Stiles is not telling the whole truth, he definitely doesn't want to mention to Scott, or to anyone, what happened yesterday and how, even if the sex was phenomenal, the night turned out to be a nightmare with that piece of information that Derek threw at him.

"Well, you _did_ drink a lot last night," Scott points out. "Or well, enough to finally cave in to your hate boner and fall in bed with Derek. But was the sex at least good?"

"Yeah, it was good," Stiles agrees, albeit a bit bitterly, knowing what exactly came out from their stupid one-night stand.

When they finally get to their usual place on the training field, Scott, who didn't question much when Stiles dragged him out of bed too early on a Saturday morning, decides to finally question what Stiles wants to do.

"So, what are doing here at 10 am on a Saturday?" he asks, looking around and probably seeing that they're the only ones that decide to wake up that early on the weekend to train.

"Oh, I want to practice this spell," Stiles explains waving his hand, not wanting to get into a lot of details because he knows that Scott won't like the idea very much.

"Something tells me I don't want to know what spell this is," Scott says, scrunching his nose. "What spell is this about? Am I going to be blown up?"

"Oh, no," Stiles says, and Scott visibly relaxes. "Or well, I don't think so," Stiles amends, and that causes Scott to rolls his eyes. "I mean, it's a spell I should be only learning in a couple of years. It's an incapacitating spell, it paralyzes the person, but uh," he struggles to find a better word for the description, but goes with the most obvious anyway, "It's a little deadly."

"Stiles!" Scott reprehends, casting Stiles an exasperated look. "Are you trying to kill me?!"

"No, no, it's not like that," Stiles tries to explain. "The spell paralyzes the person and it also spreads a poison through their bodies. The poison takes hours to kill, and it doesn't work on werewolves, or any supernatural being with healing powers. Hence you're the best person for me to practice the spell on." And then he adds, for good measure, "Please? Think how badass I'm going to be if I can cast this spell.”

"Fine," Scott concedes. "But you better be able to unparalyze me, or else I'll make you wash all the dishes for three weeks."

"Deal," Stiles confirms, smiling.

Even though his headache is apparently getting worse, he thinks he's in his right mind to do it. The spell is difficult, but Stiles believes in himself, he thinks he has enough power to do it, albeit the pain in his head is being more distracting than it should.

Stiles changes his stance on his feet, focusing on Scott, and casts the spell, " _Funestum est paralysi._ "

Stiles tries imagining Scott falling to the ground, unable to move, and he uses all the anger that was build up inside him since last night with the news about himself and Derek.

Scott doesn't fall to the ground, though, doesn't seem affected by it in the slightest. But on the other hand, Stiles suddenly feels lightheaded, and which then quickly turns into dizzy and he has the sensation that all the breath has run out of his lungs.

He stumbles forward, suddenly losing all the balance on his body, and with that he falls to the ground, hitting his head on the grass.

The last thing he hears is Scott calling out his name.

___________________________

As soon as Stiles feels himself waking up, he regrets his decision immensely. His body hurts in a way that makes him think that he was run over by a car earlier, head pounding and muscles so sore that it hurts just to even think about moving. And even though it hurts, he admits he feels comfortable in a way he wouldn't think he would be able to. The bed he's lying on feels like heaven, and the heat from the person who's lying next to him radiating to his skin and warming him up makes him melt under the touch and not think about moving from his position ever again.

At that observation, he starts noticing that the person by his side and he himself are not wearing any shirts, as both skins are in contact. Not only that, but they're so close to each other that what they're doing can be called cuddling, as Stiles is almost lying on top of that someone else. Which confuses Stiles, because he has no idea just _how_ did he get there.

When Stiles opens his eyes, trying to orient himself, he spots right next to him a figure with dark hair and stubble, who he instantly recognizes as _Derek_ , of all people.

He couldn't try to get away faster. He shoves himself upward and starts trying to leave the bed, and he ignores with all he has the pain that shoots through all his body at the motion. He knows it's not a conscious decision, and that the pain seems to be a lot worse than it should just from that slight movement, but in no way Stiles would stay lying down next and _cuddling_ with Derek freaking Hale.

However, as much as he wants to leave the bed, his attempt of getting away is not well succeeded, because then someone is shoving him down the bed in Derek's direction, pinning him down and saying, "Stiles, no, stop. Stay in the bed."

Stiles looks up and sees Scott, pressing him down the bed with a worried expression on his face. His request is a pleading, too, and he says it as if it's crucial that Stiles stays on the bed with Derek. And Stiles trusts Scott, he trusts Scott with his life and he knows that if Scott wants him to stay with Derek wearing that expression, Stiles knows that he should obey him. Not to mention how the pain from getting up recedes as soon as he touches Derek again.

After that, he's awake enough to notice how many people are in the room, and that vision scares him, because literally everyone in the packs is there, all huddled together in Derek's bedroom.

"What's happening? Why are you all here?" he questions, propping himself on his elbow but not breaking contact with Derek. The motion also gives him a better view of the room, and that's when he spots a person that makes no sense to be here. "Professor Satomi? What are you doing here?" he asks confused, but trying to sound polite.

Professor Satomi is not only the oldest werewolf on campus and the head of the werewolf resources department who also teaches a few selected classes each semesters, but she's also the alpha of the largest pack of the west coast. Everyone on campus wants to be her student one day, especially the ones whose thesis are about anything related to werewolves and their pack dynamics. She's known to be the werewolf on campus with most knowledge about their kin, and being able to make an appointment with her for whatever reason is something that takes months, from how high is the demand. Which makes the fact that she's here even more surprising and confusing.

"I'm here to help," Satomi says, approaching the bed. "You two did a very dangerous thing this morning, and I'm disappointed that Derek didn't realize the problem you two were facing sooner."

When Stiles looks in Derek's direction, he sees that Derek has woken up, probably from Stiles' agitation next to him.

"I honestly didn't know," Derek speaks up.

"I'm surprised your mom didn't tell about the consequences of a mate bond. I remember that she was an splendid alpha, an explanation on how mate bonds work is something any of the raised and born werewolves should get by their alphas," Professor Satomi says sternly, and Stiles can't help but appreciate someone scolding, albeit nicely, Derek, even if Stiles is more than dying to understand just exactly what they're talking about.

"My mom tried to talk to me about it, but I didn't listen," Derek explains, sounding ashamed. "I was foolish back then, and I was suffering because of the loss of my first love."

"I see," Professor Satomi says. "That's no excuse, though, you could have both died today. You should at least have thought of calling me, not having one of your betas do that for you."

"What are you guys talking about, though? Why are you all here?" Stiles interrupts their conversation, because he has twenty questions to ask and the first one is definitely why the hell he has to lie down in a bed next to Derek where they're both half naked and seem to be cuddling together.

"Mr Stilinski, you passed out this morning because of the mate bond," Professor Satomi explains with a severe tone. "As soon as the bond is formed, the couple can't stay apart from each other, and the separation causes death. Mr. Hale here, though," she says, motioning with her arm in Derek's direction, "figured out what was happening before he passed out. And you both are lucky that he was in the presence of Mr. Reyes and Mr. Boyd, because then he proceeded to tell them what happened the night before between you two and how the bond was formed. Mr Boyd had the clever decision of calling me, because I'm one of the only werewolves on campus with the knowledge of the bond, having in mind they're extremely, extraordinarily rare."

Stiles takes a moment to process all the information, and when he does he's completely horrified. 

"So are you trying to tell me I can't stand apart from Derek or else I'll die?" Stiles asks an octave higher, desperation filling his chest.

"Yes," Professor Satomi says, nodding. "But that won't last for much longer, such effect only lasts for about six or eight months."

Six or eight months living on Derek's pockets? Living together, sleeping in the same apartment, having dinner together, sharing TV time? Stiles is absolute sure that that would only work if they were sedated during that entire time.

"You want me to live with him? With _him_?" Stiles asks flatly, anger building in his chest. "That's not gonna work. Nuh-huh. Definitely not. Derek and I? Living together? Are you crazy?" Stiles voices his thoughts, getting increasingly more desperate and angry. "We _hate_ each other, okay? Did you ever stop to think that we would kill each other in the first week if we were forced to live together?"

"Stiles, calm down," Scott says above him, motioning with his hand and trying to sound soothing. "We're just trying to help you."

Stiles snorts. "Yeah, right. By tying me up with no one other than Derek, who you all know it's the last person on earth I would want to have to spend all my days with."

"Mr Stilinski, you two are the only ones who are to blame for the bond. Usually, the bond manifests itself as soon as the couple makes skin contact, but since you hated each other since the beginning, the bond was repressed by the feelings of animosity between you two. But since you two engaged in sexual activities, albeit not caring or loving ones by your state, the bond was finally able to take its roots, latching itself on the only romantic and positive thing between you two.

"And even then, the bond doesn't care about your feelings towards each other or if it's right or wrong that you should be together. A mate bond only comes from the fact that a relationship formed between you two would benefit you immensely, and that no one would be able to make you happier in a relationship than yourselves together," Professor Satomi explains, sounding as if her patience is running thin. "You will learn how to live together and in the end you'll thank the bond for the opportunity you had of finally getting in terms with and learning how to respect and love each other."

Stiles snorts out loud at that, and also hears that Derek did the same, albeit a bit more quietly.

"It doesn't matter what you think now, though, just that you two need to live together," Professor Satomi says, with disdain for their opinion on the matter. "And know that not only you can feel each other's emotions, but each other's pain. So if you think of causing harm to each other, know that you will feel the effects yourself."

Stiles can't help but find all of that absurd, because he can't see how in any way he would grow to _love_ Derek of all things. Tolerate him? Probably, yes. He knows that with enough will he can grow not to engage in petty fights every time they're alone in the same room. But be together with him for the rest of their lives, get married and live happily ever after as the bond makes it sound like what their relationship will become, something out of fairly tales just because they have a werewolf destiny bond going on? It just sounds ridiculous.

"Professor Satomi, do you know if there's any way to break the bond?" Derek asks next to Stiles.

And even though Stiles hates Derek, he can't help but be thankful that they're in the exact same page and that Derek's words are the exact same words Stiles was thinking about uttering himself.

"Not that I know of," Professor Satomi says. "Not only mate bonds are incredibly rare, but every werewolf that is lucky to have it would never in their right minds want to break such sacred bond."

"Okay, thank you for the information, Professor Satomi. We'll see what we can do," Derek says, nodding.

"Okay," Professor Satomi says, also nodding in response. "I think my job here is done. You two should talk to your advisors and rearrange your classes, I'll let them know about the bond and I'm sure there won't be any lasting problems to your education, especially since this is the beginning of the semester and you two won't lose too much work. Also, don't stay more than twenty yards apart from each other and please try to get over your hatred for each other. You're mates for a reason, not because the universe decided to play a prank on you."

"We'll try," Derek promises, even though everyone knows it's a lie, even Stiles who doesn't have the hearing to pick it up. "Thank you for help."

"You're welcome, alpha Hale," she says, and then she heads for the door, Boyd following her to show her the way out.

The room settles in a silence, but then when apparently Professor Satomi is out of earshot, Jackson bursts out laughing hysterically, clapping his hand on his thigh to emphasize.

"Shut the hell up, Jackson," Stiles says glowering.

"Oh, I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not," Jackson says between laughs. "You two, mates? Jesus, is it Christmas? This is going to be hilarious."

"Shut up, Jackson," Derek growls. "I still can punch you, and I'm still your alpha."

"Oh, but, Derek," Erica says, trying to hide her smile. "This is kinda funny. You know, you two, being mates, I never imagined that."

"But I think it makes sense," Lydia says. "You know, I always thought they had layers. And no one can say they're surprised to see that Derek and Stiles hooked up yesterday, that one was a long time coming."

"Layers or not, we're breaking this bond," Stiles says decisively.

"Stiles, if Professor Satomi said there was no way to break the bond, how do you think you and Derek are going to find out about it?" Erica asks, trying to put reason into the conversation. "There's probably no way to break the bond."

"We _are_ going to break the bond, okay?" Stiles says stubbornly. "I'm good at research, I can teach Derek my ways, and we'll comb through the library until we find a spell or a ritual or anything that can break it."

"But, Stiles," Scott says softly, in that voice that shows concern and desire to help. "You have to think that if you can't break the bond, you have to think of a way of living with Derek by your side every day without either of you going mad and killing each other."

"Do you even know them, Scott?" Boyd says, entering the room. "They're Stiles and Derek, they hate each other, you can't change that. The most we can do is try to be by their side most of the time to stop any building fights."

"I can control myself around Stiles," Derek tries to argue, sounding offended.

Everyone, including and especially Stiles, snorts at that.

"Derek, sweetie," Erica says, sounding apologetic. "You can do a lot of things, like look intimidated and be in perfect control on full moons, but control yourself around Stiles? I don't think so. He drives you insane more than anything else, and I don't think the blame is totally on you either, because we all know how infuriating he can act towards you pretty damn well."

"Hey!" Stiles exclaims, offended. "I am _not_ infuriating, okay! This is all Derek's fault, he's the one who drives me insane." He throws his hands in the air. "And please stop talking to me as if I'm not in the room, it will give Derek ideas for when people are over. He'll try to exclude me from everything, I can already tell."

"Talking about we coming over," Isaac says. "Who's moving?"

"Derek."

"Stiles."

Stiles shoots him a deadly glare. "I am _not_ moving in to your apartment, Derek!"

"And I'm not moving in to yours! Where am I going to sleep? On your couch? Because I don't think you'll want to share a bed like a rightful mate, right?" 

Stiles sends him a horrified glare. "Please, god, no, Derek. Don't call me your mate ever again," Stiles says almost desperately, faking a shudder. "And yes, you can take my couch. I will not leave my apartment, where all my things are, my bed, _Scott_."

"Stiles, Derek has a spare bedroom with a bed here in his apartment," Scott tries to reason. "I think it's best if you move in."

Stiles glares at him. "Scott, I thought you were my best friend! Are you really joining forces with the enemy?"

Scott rolls his eyes. "Derek is not the enemy, Stiles. He's my friend and our couch sucks. We bought it off Craiglist for twenty bucks and you know that to werewolves it still smells faintly of cat piss, even after we washed it with those special soaps."

"Fine," Stiles accepts grudgingly. "But if you don't help me take all my shit here I'll demote you from your best friend position."

"Of course I will help you, Stiles," Scott says with that face worthy of a six month old golden retriever puppy.

"Not to interrupt you but, how long did Professor Satomi say that Stiles and I need to be in physical contact of each other again? I think I've had my share of contact with Stiles for the rest of my life," Derek says, grimacing and looking at their chests so drawn together.

"You didn't seem reluctant in touching Stiles yesterday, did you, Derek?" Erica says, with an amused expression.

"That's none of your business," Derek says harshly.

"Oh, but I think it is, when Boyd and I came home from the party we could hear you two pretty loudly," she teases, smirking. "The disadvantages of living right next to each other on a building that was not designed to inhabit werewolves. You know, no soundproofing or anything of the sorts."

"Do I need to tell the pack what I heard you and Boyd saying last month while you two were having sex, huh?" Derek counters, shooting her a smirk of his own.

Erica's response is instantaneous: she stops smirking and as her cheeks turn pink her eyes widen. 

"You wouldn't do that," she hisses.

"I don't know, would I?" Derek says easily, in a cocky way that only makes Stiles want to punch him. "But now, repeating my question, how long will Stiles and I have to stay here?"

"She said until you can stay apart without feeling any pain," Boyd says.

Automatically, Stiles starts getting away from Derek, sitting up and heading to out the bed. But then pain crosses his body, from his toes to his head, and he plops himself on the bed next to Derek, groaning in pain.

"Okay, okay, we still have to cuddle, _ugh_ ," Stiles complains, feeling humiliating that for him not to feel any pain he has to be in contact with _Derek_.

_________________________________

"You're an angel for helping me move to Derek's apartment today, Scott," Stiles says as they enter their apartment, Derek in tow but walking far behind enough that Stiles forgets about his existence, which he's glad for. "Different from those people we call pack, you're a true friend."

It took far too long for Stiles and Derek to finally disentangle themselves and get up from that bed, the "until it stops hurting" rule making them spend three freaking hours aggressively cuddling and sometimes elbowing each other's stomachs because none of them could bear spend that much time so close to one another. It helped though, that most of their friends stayed with them and chatted all those three hours, mostly distracting them of the situation at hand. 

However, when it was time for Stiles and Derek to finally move away from each other, as they both clearly wanted more than anything, all of them, except Scott, scattered at the mention of helping Stiles move his things to Derek apartment. Some of them said that they needed to study, others that they needed to clean their apartments, and in the end Stiles, Scott and Derek were the only ones left to do the undesirable task, even though Derek was only included in that list because he was obliged to go everywhere Stiles went, so he didn't have much say in this situation.

"Hey, it's no problem, bro," Scott says as they enter Stiles' room. "I'll always help you with whatever you need, you know that."

"Which is why you're the sweetest guy I know and my best friend in the whole world," Stiles says, exaggerating to convey how much he's thankful for Scott's help, especially because this situation is just too shitty, and being left alone with Derek with no help from anyone else would be way too depressing and not at all good for his health, especially because he doesn't know how he's going to deal with being next to Derek that much time without ending up in a fist fight. (Which he knows he will lose tremendously, because, hello, werewolf with super strength.)

And when he remembers Derek, he looks around the room after placing one of his travel bags on the floor because he can't recall Derek's presence at all. And granted, Derek is nowhere to be seen in the room, meaning he's probably somewhere in the apartment clearly _not_ helping Stiles with the moving.

"Where the hell is Derek?" Stiles asks starting to get irritated. "He's supposed to be helping us."

Scott snorts. "Do you really think Derek will help you?" he says matter-of-factly. "He's in the living room watching TV."

"Oh, but he'll help," Stiles says stubbornly, walking to the living room with heavy steps.

He finds Derek sitting on the couch watching MTV, and the five seconds Stiles catches of the program makes him realize that Derek is watching Teen Mom of all things.

"What are you doing?" Stiles demands, stepping in front of the TV.

Derek doesn't seem fazed, he only cocks an eyebrow and deadpans, "Painting my nails, can't you see?"

Stiles rolls his eyes, exasperated. "Derek, I need help moving to your apartment because I have four exams next week and I can't afford to spend three hours here, doing something that I didn't need to do before."

At that, Derek just laughs.

"What is so funny, Derek?" Stiles inquires harshly.

"Oh, it's just that," Derek says as he stops laughing. "It's naïve and ridiculous how you think I care, when in fact I'd rather sit here and watch all seasons of Teen Mom in one go than help you."

"Don't come here making things worse for me,” Stiles says severely, pointing his finger in his direction and feeling anger build up in his chest. “This is all _your_ fault. If it wasn't for _you_ and your freaky werewolf dick we wouldn't be here."

Derek's only reaction is a big smirk, that Stiles knows can't mean good things and makes him want to punch Derek in the face. 

"I didn't see you complaining about my dick yesterday, Stiles," Derek comments easily. "In fact, you almost begged for it. You loved it, got off to it and came so hard that you almost lost your voice while you shouted my name as you came. Are you sure you're going to complain about it now, when I know you'd give everything to have my 'freaky werewolf dick' inside you again?" 

"You fucking--" Stiles tries to launch himself to Derek, fist in the air, but is stopped by something.

"Stiles, drop it," Scott says behind him. "Punching him is not going to get you anywhere. In fact, you'll only feel the pain yourself. He's not going to help us, you know that, it's futile to try to make him help us. And you started this fight, if you hadn't come here nothing would've happened."

Stiles sighs, because he knows that Scott is right. Scott is usually always right. "Fine, I was wrong," Stiles admits grudgingly, but hates the way Derek is smirking in a way that shows that he's won this fight. "But Derek here gets half the blame too. He's a completely dick to me and you know that it takes two to tango."

"I know," Scott says softly, and then turns to Derek. "You know, Derek, I'm not your alpha but we're friends, good friends even, so I think I can ask this of you. I know no one in our packs can get between your and Stiles' fights, but this situation has become incredibly more alarming because now you're going to have to spend all day together. If you two don't learn how to control yourselves around each other, you're going to drive yourselves crazy. So, please," Scott gives him a pleading, soft look, "try to be more reasonable. For me. Because I worry about you two, and I don't want to have you two killing each other by the end of this."

Derek's smirk dropped during the conversation, and he's wearing an a lot more serious look, which makes Stiles triumphantly happy to know that at least his cocky expression was washed out by Scott's words. 

"I'll try my best, Scott," Derek says. "But I can't promise anything."

"That's enough for now," Scott says, nodding. "I'll have a conversation with Stiles too. Don't think you're getting a special treatment, he deserves a talk too." Scott gives him a small smile. "Now, Stiles, let's pack your stuff and then go to Derek's apartment because I still need to study, even though I promise I'm sleeping at Derek's today so you two don't spend time alone."

Stiles only nods, following Stiles after giving Derek another scornful look.

______________________________________

Stiles rings the doorbell of Deaton's house thrumming with anxiety, eager to talk to Deaton about the pressing matter of his and Derek's mate bond.

Deaton opens his door with a smile, saying, "Hey, Stiles, Derek. Scott told me you were coming, so come on in. I made tea."

Once they're settled in Deaton's living room, camomile tea in hand and sitting on his comfortable couch, Deaton asks, "So it's just the two of you? Scott didn't tell me why you're coming. I just assumed you and Scott needed help with something pack related."

"Oh, no. Scott had to study for his midterms," Stiles explains, and then adds awkwardly, "We're here for a pressing, unusual matter about both of us, and, uh, we really need your help."

"Oh?" Deaton perks up, interested. "What can I do to help?"

"You know that Derek and I hate each other, right?" Stiles starts, and when Deaton only nods, he continues, "So, this is pretty disconcerting for both of us and it's being impossible to deal with. The thing is, on Friday we wer--"

"What Stiles is trying to say," Derek cuts in, shooting Stiles an impatient glare. (Not that Stiles could blame him, he was sort of awkwardly stalling, not fully well knowing how to continue.) "Stiles and I are mates. And now we have a mate bond that doesn't allow us to stay apart from each other and it's been driving us both insane, because we can't peacefully live together."

"I see," Deaton says, nodding and sounding a bit surprised. "And now you two want to break the bond and thought I would have some answers for you?"

"Yes," Stiles and Derek both say in unison.

"Well, I'm sorry to say but I don't think there's a way of breaking the bond," Deaton says looking apologetic.

Stiles' stomach sinks. "Are you sure? You don't know any way, any ritual, any dark magic?" Stiles presses, a little desperate, willing even to resource to dark magic if that’s what it takes.

"Not that I know of," Deaton replies. "Mate bonds are viewed as sacred by most werewolves. They're special, a blessing, and denying it is viewed as something unthinkable. The bond benefits greatly both parties, it's not something people would want to get rid of."

"Yeah, Professor Satomi told us that," Stiles says bitterly.

"There has to be a way, though," Derek says. "We can do some research. BHSU has one of the biggest libraries with supernatural lore on the country, and Stiles claims to be pretty good at research."

"I guess you could try to find a way," Deaton agrees. "I can give you some pointers, even."

"That would be pretty good," Stiles agrees.

"It would help us a lot if you could give us a start for what to look for," Derek says.

"Okay," Deaton starts. "I'm just going to say that you can already cross out rune mages and sparks out of things to research. I doubt they will be able to break the bond, it doesn't match their abilities this sort of spell. However, you could find something with witches, because they have a vast field of spells and witches and werewolves never really got along. They could possibly have created a spell to break mate bonds as a way of attacking the packs. You can especially try to find something with druids, because those are the emissaries, and if someone can cast a spell related to werewolves, they're the ones."

"Okay," Stiles says, making a mental list of what books he could try to find in the library.

"Oh, and don't forget to look for books on werewolf lore," Deaton adds. "They might have something for you, and I think they're the ones you two should start with."

"We'll definitely look for them. Thank you so much, Deaton," Derek says, finishing his tea and getting up from the couch.

"I'm glad I could help," Deaton says, showing them to the door. "But if you don't find a way to break the bond, don't try to fight it. You two are mates for a reason, whether you like it or not. I'm sure if you two tried to stop fighting and become friends, you'd see that you'd be a great couple."

Stiles hates how people keep saying that. He has no idea how Derek and he could make a good couple. In fact, he thinks the last thing he wants to do is be on good terms with Derek and even worse _date_ him. He has no idea how he would be able to do that within this universe.

He doesn't say anything though, just waves him goodbye as he closes the door and Derek walks with him to the car. That Derek insisted on driving, ugh.

"We're going to the library on Tuesday, because we don't have night classes," Stiles says to Derek.

Before going to Deaton's, they both talked to their supervisors and they could figure out a way to fit their classes together that there wouldn't be any semesters lost. Which Stiles is thankful for, but that also means that now they have 9 am classes every working day of the week.

"You can bet on it," Derek agrees. 

And Stiles is thankful that at least that they can agree on.

_______________________________________

Stiles wakes up Monday morning at what feels like the crack of dawn with the world ending outside Derek's spare bedroom. Or well, it sounds like so with the hellish noise coming from the kitchen that makes Stiles want to explode things from wanting to go back to sleep.

His door, too, is open, but he clearly remembers closing it last night. And when he gets his phone and sees that it's 6 freaking am, he decides to get up from the bed and scold Derek, because apparently the conversation Scott had with him didn't have any effect on his douchebag behavior.

In the kitchen, he finds Derek handling the mixer with a green goop inside it, and he looks way too cheerful to be up at that time in the morning. Ugh, Stiles hates morning people.

"What the hell are you doing, Derek?" Stiles demands in the middle of the kitchen. "It's 6 am! Go to sleep!"

"Good morning to you too, Stiles," Derek says too cheerful, and it makes Stiles want to punch him in the face. "I'm making a spinach, chard, plum, apple and spirulina smoothie. Do you want some?"

And Stiles knows that Derek is only doing that to piss him off. And-- _Oh_ , Stiles can _feel_ Derek’s feelings. He can actually feel a content vibe coming from him, with a small tint of pleased from seeing Stiles pissed off. And that only makes Stiles feel more angry, because he can actually _know_ exactly what’s going on inside Derek.

Stiles does fake throwing up noises, annoyed. "No, thank you, darling," Stiles says sarcastically. "You’re such a good mate, sweetie, proving for me like that. But you know, I think I'd rather drink my own piss than this goop."

And then Stiles feels it again: Derek turning pissed off, smirk wearing off to be replaced by a glare, mouth pursed.

But before Derek can say anything, Stiles, who’s still tired, announces, still with sarcasm, “Well, honey, I know you made the smoothie just for me, but I’m tired and I’m going back to sleep.”

Derek seems to have other ideas, because when Stiles starts turning back to head to his room, he says, "You're not going back to sleep. We're going running after I'm done with this."

Stiles laughs at the absurdity of Derek's statement. "Oh yeah, of course, I'll definitely go running with you at the crack of dawn. Definitely, Derek, it's great to see how you know me so well. That's why we're mates, right?"

"I wasn't asking, Stiles," Derek says with no amusement in his tone. "You _will_ go running with me. I always run in the morning, a few miles, and I'm not going to gain weight just because you're lazy and doesn't care about your own appearance."

"I didn't see you complaining about my appearance when you fucked me and clearly enjoyed it," Stiles bites out, using Derek's own argument against him. "And this is all your fault to start with. You're the werewolf. It's _your_ mate bond. Start taking responsibility for the things that happen because of you. I'm not going running, I'm going back to sleep."

And he punctuates that by turning his back on Derek and leaving the kitchen and going in the direction of his bedroom.

"If you're not going running then you're not sleeping either!" Derek shouts from the kitchen, but Stiles doesn't pay it any mind, shutting the door and plopping himself on the bed.

When he's almost falling asleep, though, the music starts.

The songs are some metal/screamo sort of music, heavy and loud, and it's coming right behind his door, which Stiles knows Derek did on purpose just to piss him off.

He tries to sleep even with the music, he tries, but he only ends up pissed off and rolling in the sheets, almost punching the wall from anger.

In the end he forgets about sleeping. But he can't control himself when he gets up, opens the door and shouts, "I'm going to think of something to get back at you!"

After that he just gets his iPod and puts on some decent music on his earphones and then starts studying for one of the exams he has this week. Because if he's going to be up anyway, he should use his time for something useful.

_________________________________________

The first class of the day is Emotion Control, one of Stiles' spark classes. Derek tags along without saying a word, bringing his computer to work on his thesis, which Stiles doesn't know and doesn't want to know what's about, since he couldn't care less for anything about Derek's life.

Stiles is a little nervous about Derek's presence in the class, though, because everyone will notice that Derek isn't supposed to be there. In fact, a lot of people know who Derek is, being one of the alphas on campus, especially because of the fact that Derek and Scott are sort of co-alphas, which brings a lot of attention to Stiles' group of friends.

Stiles also doesn't want to let anyone know that he's suddenly Derek's mate. People don't know that well about his and Derek's animosity though, but it still isn't something Stiles wants to broadcast to the whole university, because most of all this bond isn't something that Stiles wants, and being tainted with the reputation that they're one of the first documented cases of a mate pair in a long time is not something he wants for his college career.

His fear is actualized, though, when Heather comes to talk to them as they enter the classroom.

Heather is another spark that Stiles had drunkenly made out in a party once, only to a few weeks later for her to start dating her friend Danielle and coming out as a lesbian to everyone. They're friends, sort of, more like acquaintances who ask for each other's notes when the other misses some class. They're in good terms, though, and Stiles knows that it would make more sense for Heather to be the one to have the courage to ask him about the situation than anyone else.

"Hey, Stiles," Heather greets him, waving slightly and making them stop in the middle of the classroom. "So, I've heard some rumors and I wanted to know if they're true so, you know, we don't start spreading rumors that aren't true." She smiles sweetly. "Is it true that you and Derek are mates?"

Stiles doesn't like to think how everyone came to know about something Stiles knows that none of the pack would have told anyone. Even though, Liam would probably do it to one of his friends and then everyone would know in no time. And probably Professor Satomi commented to some people too, shit. It all gives Stiles a headache, because he doesn't really want to deal with the fact that a lot of people are going to acknowledge their new relationships status, from "two guys who hate but want to bone each other" to "two guys who hate each other and now the universe decided to play a huge prank on them by making them stay together because they're mates."

"Uhh, yeah," Stiles says awkwardly, not wanting to lie to her.

"That's so cool!" Heather says excitedly. "I never knew that mates were a thing that happened for real, but this is so nice! It must be awesome that you for real have a soulmate, right?"

Stiles laughs awkwardly at the absurdity of her statement, of how this situation can be perceived as something nice when the last thing he wants to be is Derek's soulmate. "Yeah, right?"

"I heard that you two can read each other's thoughts, is that true?" Heather asks interested, sounding thrilled to have first hand information on the whole mates thing that people probably are dying for.

"Oh, yeah," Derek says, speaking up for the first time since they got on campus. "Stiles here is a funny one to share thoughts with. He can't stop thinking about sex all day. He also has some sexual fantasies that even I didn't know existed."

Stiles narrows his eyes at him. In a fit of impulsivity, he pinches Derek's back, who glares at him in return.

Stiles tries to laugh at what Derek says, though, not wanting to scare Heather away but still wanting to get his little revenge out of Derek's words.

“Oh, but you know, Derek, it’s best to fill your head with sex than what you think, right?" he says easily, smiling mischievously, then turns to Heather, turning his voice in a fake whisper, as if Derek wouldn't be able to hear them. "Derek here has very aggressive thoughts, once I caught him thinking about punching the guy who took his spot on the parking lot." Then he turns to Derek and smiles, caressing his cheek and eliciting one of the most terrible glares from him. "But he’s a work in progress, right, bunny? We’re working on it.”

Heather smiles nervously, seeming not to know very well what to do and finding herself in an awkward position. Not that Stiles blames her, though.

"Well, congratulations to you both," she says rushed, eyeing the seats behind her. "See you later, Stiles."

And then she's gone.

"She's never going to talk to me again, you know that, right?" Stiles says to Derek disapprovingly, shooting him a pointed glare.

"Obviously," Derek says with amusement in his tone. "She seemed like a nice person though, totally undeserving of your friendship."

"The only person undeserving of my friendship here is you, buddy," Stiles says annoyed, walking to get a seat in the front rows, just like the nerd in him likes. "And it's good because the last thing I want is to be your friend."

_________________________________

Stiles is at the BHSU's library with Derek and Scott, and while he and Derek are there to start their research to break the bond, Scott is there for emotional support, also making sure that Stiles and Derek don't end up fighting in the middle of the library, doing what the whole pack has been ensuring these days by staying with Stiles and Derek whenever they can. It helps a lot, too, Stiles admits, because whenever Scott, or Erica, or Boyd, or Isaac are there, his Derek problem (that is his urge to want to engage into petty arguments with the handsome bastard all the time) is subdued by a lot, and he can even have conversations with Derek in them if the others are still around.

"Okay," Stiles says, organizing the pile of books on werewolf lore that they gathered on the table. "Derek, you take this pile." He motions for the smaller pile of books. "It has 11 books. I'll take this pile here that has around 15 books because I'm a faster reader and obviously know how to deal with research better than you." Derek glares at that, seeming to want to argue about his abilities with Stiles. (And Stiles admits that he only pointed that out with the sole purpose of making fun of Derek.) "Have in mind that you need to search for the mate bond information, which can come with information with knotting or anything of the sorts. Capiche?"

Derek rolls his eyes at the usage of that last word, but says nonetheless, "Sure. Now give me the books and let's get it started."

Stiles gives him his pile of books and starts getting started with his own, grabbing the first book, Werewolves and Their Pack Dynamics, and reading it.

Stiles' reading, though, is a special one, because he ends up skimming the book more than anything. It's his special brand of skimming, though, because he has a way of paying more attention to what he's reading and understanding it more than most of the people who actually sit down and read the book in its entirety. 

He reads four books looking for information on mate bonds until he finally, finally ends up finding one that has a small segment about mates.

And as he reads it, he learns things that he didn't know before and that in other circumstances might would've changed his opinion on his werewolf destiny bond with Derek. That is, if it wasn't with Derek.

"Wow," Stiles voices his astonishment at his discovery. "This mate bond has its perks."

"Huh?" Scott says, perking up from his book he's been using to study for his anatomy class. "What perks?"

"In case of the mate of the werewolf not being a werecreature themselves, they get extra healing powers as a consequence of the bond. They don't heal as fast as the werewolves, though, just in a minor scale, and because of that they also have a bigger life span," Stiles recites the information he read on the book and made him incredibly more interested in the bond. "Not only that, but if the werewolf's mate has magic, their magic will also become stronger with the bond, allowing them to cast more powerful spells. This is so for the mates to also be able to protect the pack, especially because usually only alpha werewolves are the ones who have higher chances of finding their mates."

"Woah," Scott says. "That's amazing."

"The benefits don't only go to the mate of the werewolf," Derek butts in their conversation, bringing more information of his own. "The mate bond also makes the werewolf more powerful and in control. The mate usually ends up being the anchor of the werewolf, and it's not only an anchor, but it's a strong one, one that never fails in making the werewolf stay in control. The werewolf's senses also get even more heightened, as I've been noticing myself. This book I'm reading," Derek says, brandishing a copy of _Werewolves: the Myths and the Truths_ , "says that it's a consequence of the werewolf's need to protect their mate. And I don't know because we haven't been far from each other much since this all started, but I'd probably be able to hear your heartbeat and track your scent whenever I go, even if it's miles away. I'm also supposed to be stronger, have better reflexes and also, uh..." he pauses, and something sparks in his expression, and then Stiles is being flooded with a positive emotion from Derek--hope, interest, amazement, all mixed together. "Alpha werewolves that are mated have more chances in achieving a full shift into a wolf."

"Woah, Derek, seriously?" Scott says, bringing his face closer to Derek's side. "Isn't that what you--"

"Yeah," Derek cuts in, letting Stiles curious to know exactly what they were talking about. "But it doesn't matter, these benefits sound pretty cool but in no way I would be willing to spend eight months stuck with Stiles by my side, and then the rest of my life sensing his feelings and hearing his heartbeat everywhere. We hate each other, this bond isn't designed for us."

And Stiles has to agree with that, wholeheartedly. The perks of the bond sound great, for both of them. but they're not worth everything that it takes to have it. And also, it's not as if the benefits of it all were needed in a life-or-death situation. They were pretty okay with their powers one week ago when everything was still the same, they wouldn't want to forget about breaking the bond just because some silly perks appeared to tempt them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this chapter wasn't too boring :( but there'll be plenty of p0rn next chapter i promise uwu
> 
> which will be posted in like... 9~10 days or so! :))))


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for MENTIONS of mpreg. there WON'T be mpreg in this fic at all, okay? don't worry.

As the week passes, Stiles tries as much as he can not to think about the fact that Derek and he are mates. Or at least, he ignores it whenever he's not researching with Derek how to break the bond. It's pretty hard, though, because not only he's practically glued to Derek's side every waking hour of his day (even though they always try to put some distance between them), everyone on campus knows about the bond. The news spreaded through campus like wildfire because of the rarity of the situation, and now they're the hot talk of the moment. Wherever they go, there are always people whispering and pointing at them, and Stiles doesn't even need to have werewolf hearing to know just what they're talking about.

Thankfully, though, having to spend his days with Derek hasn't been that hard as Stiles thought it would be. But that's due to the fact that they have an incredibly tight schedule right now, barely having time to breathe all day since they spend 10 hours of their day on campus, hopping from class to class. The only time they have to themselves is lunch and dinner at Derek's apartment, but then they spend it with as many members of the packs they can, eating together and talking and pretty much ignoring each other's existence like they do all day.

Granted, they sometimes still engage in petty discussions about the dumbest things. But they're Stiles and Derek, so that’s completely predictable.

Stiles is also surprised to see that when they end up alone on Derek's apartment that Friday, because all their friends had dates or other excuses to not babysit them on a Friday night, they don't engage in any fight for a few good hours, having the wonderful idea of locking themselves up in their own rooms and not talking to each other at all, which seems to be the right way to avoid any confrontation. Stiles enjoys it too, he admits. Because whether he likes it or not, his fights with Derek leave him emotionally drained and irritated, and that's never good for his state of mind. So Stiles is not complaining when he knows he hasn't had a fight with Derek in over 24 hours; he truly does enjoy the calm and tranquility during those hours.

Even though, the peace doesn't last that long.

It's around 8:30 when Stiles' stomach starts growling, and usually by that time one of their friends would already be cooking something or ordering takeout. Stiles' abilities in the kitchen, though, are summarized in microwaving popcorn and frozen food and cooking pasta, which is basically throwing the pasta in boiling water and letting it cook; so because of that, Stiles' obvious decision is to order takeout, and he _has_ been craving pizza for quite some time now, so it's a pretty good decision as it is.

And because he's a nice person who's trying to live in good terms with Derek (as much as possible), he decides to ask Derek what he wants in the pizza. (And, also, let's never forget the important thing that asking Derek means that he'll be able to split the price of the order, because the life of a college student is never good monetary wise.)

He leaves his room in order to talk to Derek and finds him sitting by the kitchen table sorting out some papers and looking concentrated. He looks pretty good too, wearing a tight fitting white tank top with skinny jeans that cup his ass in the most sinful way. Not that Stiles is looking.

"Yo, Derek," Stiles says approaching him, shoving the lustful thoughts aside. "I'm ordering pizza, what topping do you want?"

"I'm cooking," Derek says, not looking from his papers.

"Oh sweet," Stiles says, because if Derek's going to cook, at least he can save money. Not to mention that Derek's an amazing cook. "Tell me you're cooking your lasagna. That shit is amazing."

"I said I was cooking, I didn't say I was cooking for you," Derek replies coldly.

And of course Derek would be an asshole to him when Stiles wasn't being anything but nice to Derek for the first time in forever.

"Wow, way to go, Derek," Stiles says irritated. "I was trying to be nice, okay? Because if we're going to live together for the foreseeable future, we need to at least be in speakable terms for us not to drive each other mental."

"I never asked you to be nice," Derek replies harshly, looking up from his papers and glaring at Stiles. "I won't be nice to you. Ever. I don't want this. I don't want to be stuck with you and this situation is the worst thing that could be happening to me this year."

"Fuck off," Stiles spits, having run out of patience. "I'll order my pizza and you stay with your crappy food. I'm gonna order meat lovers, that I know it's your favorite, and I'm not going to let you eat not even half a piece."

And then he walks out of the living room into this bedroom, fuming.

He orders his pizza jabbing his finger on his phone's screen in a way that he almost thinks it's going to break it, but he can't contain his anger enough. Once the pizza is ordered, he goes on Facebook and tries to distract himself until the pizza arrives.

When the doorbell rings, Stiles feels a lot more composed and calm, but then he sees that Derek is now eating his dinner on the living room table, and the idea of eating his pizza next to Derek doesn't seem very inviting.

He gets and pays for his pizza wondering if he should eat it in his room but then he knows he would only make a mess in the room because he's one of the messiest eaters he knows, and staining his bed wouldn't be a good idea.

And what the hell, this is also technically his apartment for the time being, right? It's Derek's fault that they're here in the first place, and everyone plotted against him for him to move to Derek's too, or else he would be in his and Scott's apartment right now without having this problem. So if he wants to eat in the living room, he _will_ eat in the living room.

He sits on the other side of the table from where Derek is sitting, and grabs a slice of pizza. From the distance he can see that Derek is eating zucchini and brown rice and beef, the latter being the only salvage thing on the entire plate. And Stiles thanks that at least he isn't eating what Derek cooked.

"Your food looks disgusting," Stiles says between mouthfuls of his pizza. "I bet my pizza tastes ten thousand times better. And I'm going to eat everything so you don't have leftovers to eat when you decide that your food is too disgusting."

"Different from you, I try to eat healthy. You eat like a college kid who's trying to get a heart attack," Derek retorts as Stiles gives a bite on his pizza clumsily, making meat fall all over the table, which Derek seems not to like one bit because then he's glaring at and reprimanding him, "Fucking hell, Stiles, look out for your food! You're going to clean every last bit of food that fell on the table, I don't even care what you think. Can't you eat like a decent human being?!"

"I can eat like a decent human being!" Stiles replies affronted, still with his mouth full and words coming out jumbled.

And as he speak, little bits of meat fall off his mouth and to the table. And as they fall he tries to catch the little pieces, pizza still in hand and almost falling on the carpet.

"Stop, Stiles, stop!" Derek demands. "You're going to make the pizza fall from your hand. God, can't you eat normally?! You are disgusting, I wonder what my cousin saw in you."

"Fuck you," Stiles says angrily, waving his arms around and not seeing to be able to stop. "I wonder what anyone sees in you. Your _personality_ is disgusting! You're rude! You're grumpy! You're an awful alpha!"

And Stiles punctuates every "you" with a jab of his finger in Derek's direction, causing his body to move and then the pizza piece finally fall on Derek's carpet.

Stiles automatically scrambles to his feet, as if being fast will not let the biggest stain on Derek's carpet he knows it's already there. Derek, too, is quick on his feet too, because he's immediately right in front of Stiles, obviously only to reprimand him and scream offenses at his face.

"Look what you did, Stiles! You had to go and drop the fucking pizza, didn't you? You can't even control your own limbs and you want to be a cop? How are you going to be a cop if you act like a fucking ogre?"

And Stiles isn't going to take any of Derek's offenses, oh no, because Derek isn't allowed to talk to him like that. Who does Derek think he is?

Stiles is quick on getting up from his position on the floor as he was bent over to try to pick up the pizza, shooting Derek a murderous glare and shoving him for good measure. "Go fuck yourself."

Derek's glare turns ferocious, eyes flashing crimson. "Don't you fucking dare talk to me like that," he snarls, and then shoves Stiles in return so forcefully that Stiles flies across the room and lands on the wall across the table.

As he hits the wall, pain shoots through all his body. It hurts, it hurts like _hell_ , and it only makes Stiles' body flood with more anger. But if he were to say that their fight isn't leaving him aroused, he would be lying. The fight thrills him, and the pain and being manhandled by Derek not only infuriates him, but it leaves him craving for more--for more physical contact, for Derek roughing him up and manhandling him and fucking him until Stiles has bruises all over his body.

Which only makes him smirk as Derek stalks his way to Stiles, and his next words are filled with defiance and with no fear embed into them.

"And what you're going to do, big guy?" Stiles asks, daring.

Derek stops in front of Stiles and flashes his eyes again, in a way that Stiles know he's trying to make Stiles submit to him. And then his nostrils flare, and it's obvious the moment he picks up the scent of arousal coming from Stiles, because he only smirks, stepping even closer until they're only a few inches apart and Stiles can feel Derek's breathing against his face.

"You enjoy this, don't you, Stiles?" Derek asks cockily, purring Stiles' name and then pinning Stiles on the wall with a hand on his shoulder. "You enjoy being shoved, screamed at and almost ridicularized by me, don't you? You get off on my eyes turning red," and he punctuates that by flashing his eyes again, only deepening his smirk by the sigh that Stiles lets out and can't control, "on me calling you names. You're such a little slut for me, aren't you?" And then before Stiles can refute that last line, Derek is shoving his leg between Stiles' thighs and pressing his knee against Stiles' ever-growing erection.

Stiles' reaction is instantaneous: at the amazing pressure that is applied at his erection, he can't control the long moan that slips his mouth. Derek's response is to only widen his cocky smirk, pleased with himself in knowing that he's causing such reaction in Stiles. And before Stiles can think of doing anything else, Derek is closing the distance between them and wrapping his mouth around Stiles' in a searing kiss that isn't any less gentle than the way he shoved Stiles against the wall seconds later.

They kiss as if the kiss was a fight, tongues battling for dominance inside their mouths and teeth clashing together from time to time. Stiles doesn't waste his time in fisting his hand in Derek's hair, pulling it by its roots and trying to elicit some sort of pain from Derek. Derek seems to have the same goal, too, because he isn't tame about his actions: in no time he's using his teeth to bite Stiles' bottom with enough force that makes Stiles whimper. The whimper though, it's from a mix of pain and also pleasure, and the combination is something that arouses him, that makes him want to continue what they're doing and ask for more.

Stiles also knows for a fact that in a few hours his lips will be red and swollen, leaving an imprint of Derek's presence, and he admits the gets off on it, more than he should. Derek's grip on Stiles' shoulder is strong, too, strong enough that the act of pressing Stiles against the wall and making sure he doesn't scape makes Stiles' body hurt all over, and he thinks that Derek's hand will probably leave bruises on his skin that will take days to fade.

Derek doesn't stop there either, because soon enough he's moving his mouth and locking it on the crook of Stiles' neck, sucking a bruise there and then lapping his tongue in sequence over the place his mouth was, stubble burning all the skin it can find. Stiles moans soundly at that, thinking about all the bruises that faded from the last night they hooked up that will come back in full force after they're done today, and the best thing is that Derek seems to want to mark Stiles as much as he can, as the bite that he gives on the pale skin under Stiles' ear can attest. Stiles sees stars with the pain the shoots his body with that, because Derek isn't gentle or caring or anything of the sorts; Stiles knows that Derek's intentions are not only to give Stiles pleasure, but also to make him feel pain and express just how much Derek is angry about the situation. It doesn't prevent Stiles from baring his neck even more and letting out a guttural noise from his throat, though.

He also can't help himself as he starts thrusting his hips against Derek's knee, trying to create some sort of friction to try to find some relief, to try to give him more and more pleasure until he'll be able to come. And he knows that because he's with Derek, coming won't be that hard of a task, since just being with Derek, especially under their circumstances and how aggressive they always are, is enough to make Stiles come in no time.

"Come on, Derek, clothes off," Stiles says, tugging the hem of Derek's shirt with his free hand. And as much as he gets off from being with Derek alone, being this close to Derek in such situation and not be able to ogle Derek's glorious naked body it's just a shame.

Derek doesn't seem to want to detach himself from Stiles' neck though, because he only gives another bite on it. And Stiles can't help but moan soundly at that.

"Come _on_ ," Stiles presses breathlessly. "Are you going to mark me like a dog all day?"

Derek huffs in annoyance at the comment, but finally complies and moves only the sufficient to make him able to discard his shirt in a swift motion. He also doesn't waste his time in getting rid of Stiles' shirt either, taking it off with no grace in his movements, just wanting to get them naked as fast as possible.

The view of Derek's bare chest and the perfect, thick patch of hair leading to his crotch that spark something inside Stiles that makes him jump to get Derek completely naked _fast_ , faster than the pace that Derek is going. He goes for Derek's belt, unbuckling it in an agile movement and shoving Derek's pants down until they're on knee level.

The sight of Derek in only underwear is amazing, and even better is to find Derek rock hard cock making a delicious outline on his white boxer briefs. To make things worse, at the head of Derek's cock there's a wet patch on the fabric of his underwear that indicate that not only is Derek aroused, but he's also at the point of leaking pre-come. It all makes Stiles' mouth water with lust and need to get Derek's cock inside his mouth, which he admits he has been thinking about since last week, even if the whole situation about their newly formed bond pisses him off--Derek, in the end, will never stop being what Stiles' wet dreams are made of.

As soon as Stiles reaches for Derek's cock through his underwear, touching the outline with his palm and applying pressure, Derek throws his head back, unable to control himself, and moans soundly at the touch, tightening his grip on Stiles' shoulder and bucking his hips slightly seeking more and more friction. At Derek's beautiful response, Stiles decides to shove Derek's underwear down, freeing his cock, that then Stiles wraps his hand around, giving it a generous stroke.

Derek's cock is beautiful; it has a good length, not too short nor too long, and an amazing girth, thick just like Stiles likes it. His dick is also uncut, foreskin deliciously moving as Stiles tugs on his cock, spreading the pre-come that pooled on the tip. Stiles is yet again overcome with the urge to blow Derek right there, and he thinks that, _fuck_ , if he doesn't put Derek's dick in his mouth he's going to cry.

Stiles loves giving head, it's one of his favorite things to do in bed, and he has lost count how many times he has come just from having someone else's dick inside his mouth. Blame it on his oral fixation, but he just loves to have a dick in his mouth, spreading his lips whide and feeling the pre-come on his tongue, twirling it over the head, sucking and sucking and not stopping. Stiles loves it, so when he gets on his knees in front of Derek he doesn't even have to stop think about it, he just goes for it.

Stiles' first action is to tentatively lick Derek's frenulum, and the taste of Derek's pre-come and the feel of Derek's foreskin moving with his tongue makes him moan quietly in pleasure. Derek also seems to enjoy it a lot, because he closes his eyes and mewls, thrusting his hips slightly into Stiles' mouth. At that, Stiles takes the head of Derek's dick inside his mouth, sucking soundly at it, twirling his tongue around it and playing with the foreskin in addition.

Stiles, with the hand that is not holding the base of Derek's cock, goes for Derek's balls, fondling and playing with them as Stiles works his mouth on Derek's dick. He sucks avidly, taking pleasure in all the little, needy noises that leave Derek's tongue. When he bobs down his head until he can feel Derek at the back of his throat, still sucking with all he has, his dick gives a twitch and he moans around Derek's dick, even though the noise is muffled by it.

"You fucking _love_ this, don't you?" Derek says in a raspy breath, grabbing Stiles' by the hair. "You get off on sucking cock, like a pretty little slut you are, don't you? You're _hungry_ for it. I bet that if I fucked your mouth you'd be moaning and palming your dick through your pants."

And then to punctuate what he said, Derek gives a good thrust with his hips, moving his cock down Stiles throat, which makes him whimper at the depth his cock traveled into Stiles' mouth.  
And Stiles can't help himself, because someone face fucking him? Someone with a dick as gorgeous as Derek? He can't help but do exactly what Derek told him what he would do: he moans loudly and the hand that was holding Derek's cock runs to his own crotch, creating the well deserved friction his dick wants.

"Yeah, yeah, take my cock," Derek moans approvingly. "I'm going to fuck your mouth and you're gonna love it, won't you? You're gonna moan and come in your pants just from me shoving my dick in your throat."

And Stiles nods with it, giving his approval and wanting exactly that, for Derek to fuck his mouth with all he has, until he comes in Stiles' mouth or, even better, on his face.

Stiles' little nodding seems to be an enough of an approval for Derek, because then Derek is grabbing Stiles by the hair and aligning his mouth and then giving a generous thrust, the head of his cock reaching the back of Stiles' throat in no time.

Stiles has done his fair share of deepthroating, and by now he barely has a gag reflex, but still, the act of someone jamming their cocks down his throat still makes his eyes water a little. Especially because Derek pistons his hips carelessly, not caring about Stiles at all, just wanting to get his release, to get the perfect heat of Stiles' mouth around his cock, from head to shaft. Still, it doesn't mean that Stiles isn't enjoying, not at all; every jab of Derek's cock makes Stiles mewl against it, breath becoming ragged in no time.

Soon after Derek has build a quick pace, his thrusts become erratic as his moans and grunts grow louder. Stiles, in the mean time, has continued rubbing his erection through his pants, seeking more and more contact, the feel of Derek's dick in his mouth and that being enough to drive him on edge in a little amount of time.

When Derek pulls out of Stiles' mouth, Stiles is about to complain about it when the first wave of come hits his cheek. Promptly, Stiles opens his mouth, inviting, moaning as the next spurt of come hits his tongue and he can taste the salty and bitter flavor of Derek's spunk.

That seems to be enough for Stiles, because then he's coming, coming harder than he's ever come while giving someone head. He rides his orgasm out by rubbing and rubbing his hand over his erection, taking advantage of the situation and licking all the come from his face that his tongue can reach.

When Derek is done, he hauls Stiles up by his shirt, bringing him closer and bringing their faces together in a dirty kiss. Knowing that Derek is tasting himself on Stiles' lips only makes the situation ten thousand times hotter, and Stiles knows that if he hadn't come just seconds ago he would definitely be coming now, with the hot feeling of Derek's tongue on his own and his hands tightly gripping his shirt and hair.

When Derek backs off, he's smirking, and before he heads to the kitchen table he says, "Now go clean the pizza on my carpet, and if you let any food fall on my carpet again, I'll spank you until you're sore and I won't even let you come."

Stiles, as much as he wants to punch Derek in the face for him thinking that he can order Stiles around like that, still shudders at Derek's words.

He cleans the floor, but just because he's responsible and he admits that he did a wrong thing. And if he is more careful about eating the rest of the pizza, well, it's _definitely_ just because he doesn’t want to clean any potential mess.

_____________________________________________

They don't talk about it.

And it's a total mutual thing; Derek, as much as Stiles, doesn't seem to want to talk about their hookup. In fact, he seems to want to pretend like it didn't happen, just like Stiles wants too. Because as much as they did enjoy the sex and it was great (something Stiles would definitely want to do again if the other person participating wasn't, you know, _Derek_ ) the fact that they are now mates who still hate each other made things more complicated. Banging each other as soon as the opportunity arose would only prove to the bond and everyone that yes, they _are_ good for each other and this bond thing is _right_ for them. When in the end _it fucking isn't_ and Stiles wants to make clear for himself and for everyone that as much as he wants to have sex with Derek and he enjoys it, he still hates Derek with all he has and Derek is the person whom he least wants to be stuck with in the world.

So, because of that, they lock themselves in their rooms and don't talk about it. At least, they don't until Erica brings it up on Saturday night.

Usually, Saturday night is pack night whenever they don't have parties or big exams to study for. Those pack nights usually consist of eating loads of takeout boxes and watching movies on Derek's flat screen TV, and sometimes they also play a big game of Cards Against Humanity to have fun. It's easily the best day of Stiles' week, and he always looks forward to Saturday. 

Everyone is sitting by the dining table eating Chinese takeout and chatting carelessly when Erica drops the bomb.

"So, Stiles," she says, smirking devilishly. "When are you going to tell us that you and Derek had sex yesterday?"

Stiles automatically chokes on the coke he was drinking of surprise of what she was saying, and just damning her for ever bringing that up.

"I knew that would happen!" Lydia says excitedly from the other side of the table. "I guess you all have to give me money from the bet."

"Wait what? _Bet?_ " Stiles asks, still coughing a little. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, the pack had a bet going on on how many weeks you guys would be able to stay living together without fucking," Lydia says easily, almost shrugging it off. "I betted less than 1 week, because I always understood how you guys can't keep your hands off each other."

"You _what _?" Stiles says unbelievably, verging on furious. "It's not fucking like that, okay? And Derek and I, we didn't-- we-- we just-- _it's not like that._ "__

 _ _"Oh, come on, Stiles," Isaac says, twirling his chopsticks with his fingers. "The living room reeks of sex and come. And, Derek," he says, turning to Derek, "did you really have to fuck him in the living room? For real? That's disgusting, you _eat_ here. _ We all_ eat here."

"Stiles started it," Derek says grumpily, glaring in Stiles' direction.

"I did not!" Stiles is quick to contradict. " _You_ started shouting at me! And do I need to remember you that you freaking threw me against the wall?!"

"Do I need to remember you that you're the one who was reeking arousal and leaking in your pants even before I touched you?" Derek says with a cocky smirk.

Stiles splutters, embarrassment coloring his features. "Well, you touched my dick! And then you--"

"God, shut up," Jackson interrupts, disrupting their conversation. "We don't want to know about your foreplay or anything about your sex life, for fuck's sake."

"Speak for yourself, Jackson, I'd die to watch them fuck," Erica says cheekily, between a bite of her spring roll.

Jackson rolls his eyes.

"But since you two are fucking now," Boyd says, "I'm not going to babysit you anymore. Because it's fucking exhausting to be around you two, and coming over to Derek's apartment to do a job of a kindergarten teacher isn't something that someone likes to do every day at night after having a full day of classes."

"I'm with Boyd," Erica says.

"Definitely with Boyd too," Jackson agrees, nodding.

"Guys, please no," Stiles pleads. "I need you here. I don't know if I can stay here with Derek without any of you here. I don't actually _want_ to fuck him at all. Come on."

"Honey," Lydia says, casting him apologetic eyes. "We're doing yourself a favor. You're gonna get laid and you're gonna love it. Believe it. And you and Derek need time alone to sort your shit out. It's time for you to grow up and act like adults around each other for the first time in your lives. It's going to be okay." She smiles. "Plus, are you seriously going to refuse having sex with Derek?"

"Ugh, I hate you," Stiles says morosely, especially because he knows what Lydia is saying is truth, like everything Lydia says is.

"You love me," she replies, smiling sweetly.

And yeah, he totally does. But she doesn't need to know that now.

He turns to Scott, though, his last resort. "Scott," he says. "Tell me you're still going to help me with Derek."

"I am, I promise," Scott says, like the faithful little puppy he is. Bless him.

"Bless you," Stiles says to him, voicing his thoughts. "You're a true friend." But then he turns to Derek, who has been quiet during this whole conversation. "And you, don't you have anything to say about this?"

"Not really," Derek says, shrugging. "I can deal with you on my own. Different from you I can handle a little fight and I don't get hard simply from someone shouting at and getting physical with me."

"You fucking--" Stiles hisses, flushing in embarrassment knowing that everyone is in the room and getting up from his chair and charging into Derek's direction.

He's stopped, though, of course, by Scott, who says, "Woah, woah, Stiles, calm down. Don't let him get to you."

Stiles takes a deep breath and sits down on his seat again.

"Are you sure you're going to let us stay alone?" he asks everyone in the room, who seem deeply amused by the situation.

"Definitely," they all say, grinning.

Ugh, he has terrible friends.

_________________________________________

"What the fuck, Derek?" Stiles exclaims suddenly, eyes wide in disbelief at the information he found on the book he had been researching.

Derek and Scott, who had been at the library with them for moral support as always, look up startled.

"What?" Derek asks flatly.

"What happened?" Scott asks, setting his book aside.

" _Did you know I can get pregnant because of you?!_ " Stiles hisses, fear clouding his mind.

"You _what_?" Derek asks, eyes wide in terror.

"You can get _pregnant_ , Stiles?! What?!" Scott shrieks.

"It says so in this book," Stiles explains, motioning for his copy of a book of werewolf lore, and a very reliable one. "It says here that in the case that the werewolf mate is human and male, he can get pregnant. It works almost like female pregnancy, but it takes some time for the person to be able to get pregnant because the magic of the mate bond has to develop their body in order for it to be able to bear a child."

"That's so cool, though!" Scott says, always seeing the positive side of the things. "I know you guys don't really like each other, but if you did, can you imagine how wonderful it would be to have a child with your own genes? A child that looked just like you two? A little hyperactive werewolf or a surly park. Tell me that isn't cool."

Stiles grimaces. "I never want to think of having kids, or any sort of happy relationship, with Derek, thank you."

"Me neither," Derek says, and Stiles likes they can agree in a few things. "And after this information, we're _definitely_ breaking the bond."

And Stiles couldn't agree any faster with that.

______________________________________________

It's a couple of weeks later until they have another fight.

Scott, like the loyal friend he is, kept his promise to keep an eye on them and kept coming to Derek's apartment every day, and then on the weekends the whole pack usually went out or got together to watch movies. So because of that, he and Derek hadn't had time to actually fight. But then one night Scott is busy, because he's having a date with Kira (who Scott can't stop talking about and is sunshine and daisies according to him), and they have a fight that has been building up for weeks of mutual provoking and annoying. And the outcome of the fight, well, let's just say it's not something Stiles is surprised that happens.

"Derek," Stiles says, stopping next to the couch where Derek is sitting watching some weird show about slugs on Animal Planet.

Derek can't even be bothered to look away from the TV or give Stiles a worthy response, only grunting a "Hm?".

"Get off the couch. I want to watch TV," Stiles demands.

Derek then looks away from the TV, glaring in Stiles' direction and seeming to be highly annoyed by Stiles' existence.

"Fuck off," he says surly and simply, and then turns his head back to the TV.

Stiles huffs in anger, walking in front of the TV and blocking Derek's view.

"First of all, this is my apartment too!" Stiles starts, moving his arms in a frantic manner. "It's your fault that I'm here, you need to make things easier for me! For both of us for that matter! Second, you," and he points at Derek pointedly, "are watching _Animal Planet_. Are those slugs, Derek? And are they _mating_? What the fuck?" He throws his hands in the air. "And third, I need to watch the TV right now. The X Factor is on tonight, and it's the last episode of the season and I need to know who is going to win. I've put a lot of effort into this show, okay? I can't take not knowing who's going to win. And if I don't watch it I'm going to get spoiled because everyone watches this show!"

Derek only glares in his direction, pursing his lips into a straight line and making sure to let Stiles know how much Stiles is annoying him.

"First of all," Derek replies, using the same speech as Stiles. "This is _my_ apartment. It was never yours to start with, you have no say in what goes on here, you don't get to watch the TV whenever you want because this is _my_ TV. Second, I watch whatever the fuck I want in my TV, if I want to watch slugs fucking, which, mind you, is interesting for people who have a little bit more of culture than you, then I'm going to watch slugs fucking because _I want to and this is my apartment._ And third, I do not care about the X Factor and the reasons why you have to watch it. Now, Stiles, _fuck off._ "

And then Derek is reaching out and shoving Stiles out of the way of the TV. And with Derek's werewolf strength, Stiles is easily moved away.

Derek's words and especially that action make Stiles' blood boil with anger and outrage. He has an insult at the tip of his tongue when he sees the remote control of the TV next to Derek. At that sight, he has an idea: if talking won't make things happen, then he's going to try to win this by force.

He launches himself to the remote, making a grab at it with his hands. But Derek is fast too, and soon he realizes what Stiles is trying to do and tries to stop the motion. They engage in a fight of shoves and thrusts with their bodies, and even if Derek has werewolf super strength, Stiles is lean and fast, and he isn't an easy opponent.

"You're insane," Derek grits out, trying to control Stiles' movements and grab a hold of the remote.

"And _you're_ an idiot," Stiles replies lamely.

And it doesn't help that all the struggle has been making their body slide together, and Derek's hands have been going _everywhere_ Stiles' body, trying to hold him down. It makes it worse how their crotches rub together from time to time, and it's inevitable how Stiles sooner than later is panting and having arousal flooding his body, especially with the anger directed towards Derek that never seems to fail to turn Stiles on.

And then Stiles concentration slips for a second after Derek's hips thrust against his, making him grunt and close his eyes from a fraction of a second, and then Derek is using that as an opportunity to pin Stiles down on the couch with his hands, incapacitating him and making it impossible for him to move any further.

They stay pressed close together, Derek lying on top of Stiles with his hands pressing his chest against the couch, and their faces are drawn so close together that Stiles can count Derek's eyelashes and feel his ragged breathing on his own cheeks.

Derek is smirking too, and Stiles knows it's both because he knows he's won this and because he can smell the strong scent of arousal coming off Stiles. And then, to prove that, he does something Stiles didn't expect he would do: he rolls his hips slowly against Stiles', stimulating Stiles' erection and-- oh, that _is_ also an erection in Derek's pants.

At the motion, Stiles can't help but close his eyes and throw his head back on the couch, groaning in pleasure and bucking his hips up seeking more and more friction.

And as much as he thinks it's not a good idea to do what they're doing right now, he just goes and mentally says _fuck it_ , tipping his head up and wrapping his mouth on Derek's in a filthy kiss.

Derek kisses with as much enthusiasm as Stiles, not wasting his time in adding bites to it. He also doesn't stop thrusting and rolling his hips in a steady rhythm, causing Stiles to let out little groans and moans every time their erections make contact. And as much as Stiles had been avoiding thinking about having sex with Derek, and thinking that doing it again is not a good idea after all, Stiles knows he can't get enough of it, can't get enough of Derek's hands and mouth all over his body, driving him insane bit by bit, making him crave more and more and never wanting to stop. It's sad that Stiles knows that he probably will never have sex as great as he has with Derek, and he just wishes sometimes that Derek was someone else, someone a bit nicer and that he liked better, just so he could have these sensations every day of his life and never feel bad about it.

This time, they don't spend too much time just kissing and exploring each other's bodies with their hands. Quickly, Derek is discarding their clothes in a fast motion--but of course, before getting rid of their pants, as soon as Derek takes off Stiles' shirt he seems not to be able to help himself and latches his mouth on the pale skin of Stiles' torso, sucking a bruise there and causing Stiles to flutter his eyelashes in pleasure.

Once their pants are gone, Derek is quick to wrap his hand around both their lengths, bringing their cocks together. The sensation feels amazing--having his dick touched already feels good, but with the added feeling of Derek's cock against his own only makes Stiles close his eyes involuntarily, savoring the sensation and not being able to control the sigh he lets out in response.

Derek, with his hand, skillfully gathers the pre-come that pooled on the tip of both of their dicks to use it as lube, spreading it throughout their lengths and giving their dicks a generous stroke. Stiles admits that it's amazing to hear Derek's response at his own movement, the little raspy intake of breath, followed by the soft moan and his eyes rolling back into his skull with pleasure as he uses the palm of his hand to do a twisting motion on the head of both of their dicks. And that movement right there sends sparks through Stiles' body, making him convulse in an spasm of pleasure.

As Derek builds a pace with his strokes, his other hand travels to one of Stiles' nipples. At first he gentle traces the nipple with his forefinger, but then he goes and rubs the nub with two fingers, creating amazing friction. And _fuck_ , Stiles' nipples are _totally_ his weak spot, so much that he can't help himself when groans at the sensation, bucking his hips into Derek's fist.

Derek doesn't stop there either, because then he's getting Stiles' perky nub between his fingers and pinching it--and, to Stiles' delight, not at all gently. The pain makes Stiles shudder and mewl loudly, especially because not only he has his nipple being played with, but Derek's hand is still working on both their erections, making them slide together with an easiness provided by the large amount of pre-come there's between them.

At both the stimulations, Stiles is quickly drawn to the edge. In a fit of need of wanting to get even _closer_ to Derek, wanting more and more contact, he grabs Derek by the neck and brings him closer to a kiss. They kiss passionately as Derek speeds up the movement of his hand, leaving Stiles a sobbing mess on the couch as he tries to kiss Derek at the same time he moans and mewls all sorts of incoherent babble--because he's too clouded with pleasure that he can't even seem to keep his eyes open for more than 5 seconds, much less string a single coherent thought together.

It only takes a few more strokes from Derek for Stiles to be coming all over his hand, groaning soundly against Derek's mouth and digging his nails on the skin of Derek's shoulder. Derek hisses at the pain caused by the nails, because Stiles really was enthusiastic about it, and really couldn't control himself in the moment of his orgasm. But Derek seems to like it--a lot, actually, because not only a few seconds later Derek is biting Stiles lower lip in order to muffle his moan and shooting his come all over Stiles' stomach.

__________________________________________________

Fucking becomes a habit.

Whenever Scott can't come babysit them, they engage in the most petty fights that end up with Stiles shoved against a wall, Derek with his hair fisted into Stiles' hands and too many heated kisses. They give handjobs to each other, blowjobs, and they occasionally fuck, and none of it ever seems to cease to leave Stiles with any less bruises than the first times they got together.

One thing they don't do, though, is knot again--it seems that the memory of knotting is still too fresh in their memory, and it's still associated with the fact that they're _mates_. And as much as Stiles isn't complaining, and that the sex is great even without it, he kind of misses it, because that first time of theirs was one of the best nights of Stiles night, if he didn't count the outcome of their actions. He's not complaining, though--he just masturbates to it a few times, imagining Derek's knot stretching him open and Derek's come filling him up to the brink.

___________________________________________________

On one Sunday morning Derek barges into Stiles' room unannounced, stops in front of the chair Stiles is sitting for studying and states, "We're going out."

Stiles turns around and looks at Derek unbelievably. "Uh, no? I have this paper to write and it's 30% of my grade. I can't be anywhere right now."

"This isn't an option," Derek says, mouth pursed in a thin line. "We're going out."

"And where do you want to go so much?" Stiles asks, cocking an eyebrow.

Derek's posture falters, and Stiles can feel... uncertainty coming off him in waves, but it's not really embarrassment.

"I volunteer at an animal shelter," Derek finally says after a long pause. "I go there twice a month on Sundays, but I haven’t been going there these past weeks because of you. And they need me there today because they had an emergency."

"You? An animal shelter?" Stiles lets out a raspy laugh. "So you're telling me that Derek Hale takes care of little puppies on his spare time? For free?"

Derek glares. "Kittens. I take care of kittens," he says flatly. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Oh no, not at all," Stiles says smiling. "It's just hard to believe, you know, when you give off this vibe that you _kill_ kittens in your spare time not, you know, bottle feed them. Never pegged you for that but hey, we're learning things about each other! Today I learned that Derek Hale has a heart!"

Derek rolls his eyes impatiently. "Look, I'm going, they need me there. Take your computer with you. They have chairs and you can write the paper there. Or you can help, I don't really care. As long as we go and I help them today."

"Fine, I'm going," Stiles says finally. "But not because of you, but because I really care about the kittens."

They leave short after that, and Stiles doesn't even bring his laptop. Not because of Derek, obviously, but because he wouldn't miss the opportunity to play with kittens and help out a shelter for charity reasons. Stiles loves cats, and he would probably have convinced Scott to adopt one by now if it weren't for the fact that their building didn't accept animals.

When they get there, they're met by an Asian old lady with her hair skillfully rolled into a bun. As soon as she sets sight on Derek, her face lights up and she gets up from her chair excitedly, walking in their direction.

"Hello, Derek dear," she greets him, standing on the tip of her toes to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

And Derek seems to _love_ her, because at her presence he smiles warmer than Stiles has ever seen him smile, melting under her attention.

"Morning, Sumiko," Derek says, petting her shoulder. "You look radiant today. Did you finally get the phone number of that man you've been telling me about on bingo night? Because I've always been sure you could get it, only fools would decline you."

"Oh, Derek," Sumiko says, giggling and covering her face with her hand in embarrassment, tips of her ears pinking. "You're very nice, thank you."

"Just saying the truth," Derek says easily.

And it's really weird watching Derek interact with someone like this. Stiles has never seen Derek being sweet or caring to anyone, or at least, not to _this_ extent. It makes Stiles realize that Derek is just another human (or well, werewolf) being after all, and he has feelings and can be nice and caring when he wants to, and that he’s not just this image that Stiles constructed of this horrible person that needs to be hated.

"I've missed you, sweetie," Sumiko says, rubbing her palm on Derek's forearm. "Where have you been?"

Derek frowns, and Stiles knows he's remembering the events of the last few weeks. "I just had a few busy weeks," Derek shrugs it off. "But I promise that I'm back. Wouldn't leave you and the kittens behind, would I?"

"I hope not," Sumiko says, and then she seems to notice Stiles behind Derek, because she sets her eyes on him and then she's asking Derek, "Oh, Derek, who is this nice young man? Is he the reason you've been away all this time? Is he your _boyfriend_? He's adorable!"

At the word "boyfriend,” both Stiles and Derek grimace, but Sumiko doesn't seem to notice because she's approaching Stiles to get a closer look.

"No, Sumiko," Derek says, quick to say that _no, please, we are_ not _dating for god's sake_. "This is Stiles. We're not dating, we're... friends."

"Yep," Stiles says, nodding in Sumiko's direction. "I'm here to help. I heard there was a kitten emergency?"

"Nice to meet you, Stiles," Sumiko says sweetly. "And I'm glad that you're here to help. Derek would have a lot of work if he were here on his own today.” She smiles. “A man dropped a box with a litter of six kittens yesterday. Deaton saw them a few hours ago, they’re three weeks old and don’t show signs of malnourishment, but he already gave them the shots. They need a bath and milk and bet they’re in need of some cuddles too.” And she says those last words with a giggle. God, she’s adorable.

“Sounds good,” Derek says nodding. “Where should we start?”

"First the milk, because they'll probably get dirty," Sumiko says. "And then the bath. Let me show you where they are."

And then she's showing them around, walking towards the back door. They walk into a room full of cats, of all sizes and ages, some tucked into crates and some together in big spaces. Most of them seem to be sleeping, but some of them are playing with their toys and cardboard boxes or with each other, meowing and purring in each other's direction. They're all so cute Stiles can barely contain himself not to just go and grab a dozen of cats and pet them all.

They stop in front of a big crate, where Stiles finds six little things meowing and chewing on each other. They're all really, really small, with big blue eyes that cover all their faces and little paws still pink from how young they are.

"Now, Derek, you know where to go from here," Sumiko says, gesturing towards the cats, "I'm going back to the reception. I'm sure they won't be any trouble, they're very loving."  
"Thank you, Sumiko," Derek says, patting her on the shoulder. "I'll take over."

Quickly, she leaves, and Stiles is left alone with Derek. Derek grabs the crate and walks to another room, Stiles following. In the other room Derek starts rummaging around the cabinets and grabbing all sorts of formula and nursing bottles, and with enough instructions Stiles start working along with Derek and preparing the bottles.

Once everything is ready, they start feeding the kittens.

Stiles grabs the little black one, while Derek goes for the orange, black and white kitten, obviously a girl then. And, fuck, when Derek starts feeding her, Stiles knees go absolutely weak, because he was _never_ prepared by the overload of cuteness that is Derek, of all people, bottle feeding little kittens with all the care he has.

"There you go," Derek coos to the kitten, who sucks eagerly on the bottle. "You're doing so good. Yes, that's it, you can drink the milk. You're doing so great, little girl, so great."

And while he feeds her, the thumb of the hand that is holding the kitten rubs a pattern in the kitten's head, soothing her in a lovingly manner. It's sickenly sweet, and Stiles never imagined that Derek would be a person to be so caring towards kittens _and_ old ladies. This discovery of Derek's soft side brings a new light to Stiles' view of Derek's person, because after all, Derek is just a common person just like Stiles, and the events of today proved that he can be caring and loving when he wants to, and that he's not just some grumpy, brooding, and rude person that can only operate that way.

When they move to bath time, things get a little more difficult, because the cats absolutely _abhor_ it. Derek has a little more practice, so he can wash the kittens faster, but when Derek has washed three kittens, Stiles has only washed one, and has a mountain of bruises all over his hands and arms from the kitten’s claws. The kittens are furious at the attempt of the bath, and they hiss and scratch with their paws. It’s absolute hell.

In the end, Stiles is left with the worst kitten of them all. It’s the biggest, with black and gray brindled fur, and holding it down is almost impossible. The scratches that it leaves in Stiles’ hands and arms bleed as much as when Stiles cuts himself when shaving from how deep they are and Stiles never knew such a small kitten would be able to do so much damage.

But then Derek, who had run out of kittens to wash, comes to his rescue. He lodges himself behind Stiles, pressing his front all over Stiles’ back, and holds the kitten down with his werewolf strength.  
“I’ll hold it down,” Derek says, dangerously close to Stiles’ ear. “You can wash it while I control it.”

Stiles only answers an, “Okay,” and starts working.

And it’s really weird, working together with Derek, and doing it so well. Their bodies fit perfectly together, and Derek’s heat all over his back makes Stiles’ body tingle. It’s really nice, too, Stiles admits, them for the first time doing something together that is not fighting or bickering or something that is not negative, and _enjoying_ what they’re doing.

And to make matters more surprising, when they’re done with all the kittens, Derek pushes Stiles aside and drags him to the corner of the room, getting a box out of a cabinet and starting to gather cotton and hydrogen peroxide.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asks, confused.

“I’m taking care of your cuts,” Derek says matter-of-factly, grabbing Stiles' arms and starting to rub the cotton soaked in hydrogen peroxide on all the cuts on them. “You don’t want them to get infected, do you?”

“Uh, no,” Stiles says, not knowing very well what to say and even kinda shy about this situation because Derek has never in his life shown any signs of care towards Stiles and this is a first in their relationship. It’s nice though, Stiles admits it’s way more than nice, it feels amazing having Derek’s hands carefully giving attention to Stiles’ cuts and making sure they’re all disinfected and ready to be put bandaids on the ones that are deeper.

“We only have Batman band-aids,” Derek says, waving the package in front of Stiles.

But little does Derek know.

“Gimme!” Stiles exclaims. “They’re my favorite!”

Derek looks at him weird, shaking his head in amusement, but doesn’t look like he’s reprimanding him in any form. Even after he utters, “You’re crazy.”

After Stiles is done patching up his hands and arms with his Batman band-aids, that he admits that he loves, loves, maybe even more than he did when he was a kid, Stiles turns to Derek and utters a serious, “Thank you.” Touching him in the arm briefly in a way to show his acknowledgment.

Derek nods once, giving him a small smile and saying afterwards, “Thank you too.”

Stiles frowns, confused to what Derek should be thankful. “For what?”

“For helping out with the kittens. Your help was pretty important today for me and for the shelter, we never have a lot of people here and the job always gets piled up to one person. There are always more and more cats to take care and usually not enough people volunteering to help with them. So, thank you for the help. The shelter, Sumiko and I are glad.”

And then he goes and squeezes Stiles’ shoulder, taking a step in front of Stiles’ body and bumping his own shoulder with Stiles’ almost in a way of a hug. However, a totally weird hug as it is. A semi-hug. A no-homo-hug. A hug Stiles doesn’t understand very well, but in the end he likes it, he _loves_ it and he hates himself for it.

__________________________________________________

"So... we ran out of books," Stiles states, looking forlornly at the pile of books sitting on the library table that they've already read.

It's been a couple of months since they've started researching ways to break the bond, and they've been going to the library three, four times a week, spending hours and hours on end reading book after book trying to find a way to bypass the problem at hand. But after these arduous hours of research, and countless books later, they couldn't find anything. At all. No book showed signs of a single way to break the bond, a mention of a spell, a ritual, a hint of another book that could contain the information. And the realization that he will probably be stuck with Derek for the next months, which will be an eternity in his mind, and then the rest of eternity feeling the effects of the bond, makes a sinking feeling settle on the bottom of his stomach, almost making him sick.

"Yeah," Derek agrees, with not a lot of emotion on his tone. And even if Stiles _knows_ that Derek isn't a big emotional person, he just wishes that he would show a bit more of concern about their situation right now, because this is _alarming_.

"Dammit," Stiles curses, punching the table with his fists and feeling his eyes water with desperation. He brings his reddening hands to his face in a way to try to stop himself from crying, trying to control himself in front of Derek and everyone in the library, "I just want to go to my apartment. I want to sleep in my bed. I want not to follow you around to all your classes. I don't want to feel your fucking feelings anymore. _I don't want this_."

Derek doesn't say anything at that, and that just pisses Stiles more. Because it sounds like he's not even fucking worried about this situation, when it's the worst thing that could be happening to them.  
"Are you just going to stand there and do nothing?" Stiles demands. "You're not worried about our future? _Your_ future? Do you really want this, Derek? Why are you not freaking out?! This is important!"'  
"I _am_ freaking out, you uncomposed idiot. But different from you I'm trying to think of a way out of this situation instead of screaming and crying in the middle of the library. Because believe me when I say I don't want this as much as you," Derek says with no patience, and Stiles knows that both of them have no patience to deal with each other. "But I think I have a solution."

"Oh?" Stiles perks up at that. "What?"

"We could try the university's library's restricted section," Derek says, sounding proud of himself for the idea.

"Restricted section?" Stiles asks, because in all his years of studying at BHSU, he's never heard of any restricted section of the library. And he also wishes that Derek would've mentioned it sooner, because that is important information right there.

"Yeah, BHSU has a collection of books secretly stored in a section in a building, that is not in the same one as the library. These books are deemed to contain very dangerous information, like dark spells and rituals, how to bring people back from the dead, information gathered from centuries of the supernatural world using their abilities and magic for good and evil. Spells that were invented but deemed too dangerous to use are there, rituals for druids who intended to become darachs, it's all there."

"Yeah, and so with that vast quantity of rare spells and information, you think we can finally find a way to break the bond?"

"I think so. First of all we have to talk to Clara. She's the one who runs the restricted section. She's a beta of the Satomi pack and she used to be good friends with my mother back in the day. She visited my house all the time back then, when my family was still alive, brought her husband with her. My mom loved her." And Stiles can't stop not to notice how Derek's eyes change at that, and the emotions that are bombarded in Stiles' direction every time Derek thinks about his mom. It's a mix of grief, anger, guilt and love all together assaulting Stiles chest. Derek quickly, though, recomposes himself and the feelings are gone. "But that's not important," he dismisses. "What's important is that it's good that I know Clara. Which is the reason why I could get inside the restricted section before. I needed to use the restricted section to research on my thesis, and Clara gave me access to it."

"So let's go there right now!" Stiles says excitedly, seeing hope in this situation. "You have your contact, we have tons of new books to research. This is great!"

"It doesn't work exactly like that, though, Stiles," Derek tries to explain a bit better. "We need to issue a requests to access the restricted section, explaining why we want to access it, and Clara and a few other people will evaluate whether we're supposed to be inside it or not. It's not that easy and it takes some time. I mean, _weeks_."

Stiles loses his animation that once there was but tries to keep positive, because at least now they the possibility of more books to look up too, when before of that they had nothing, nada. Now they have countless more books to look into, and it's not as if they would deny to them the chance of breaking the bond, right?

"Plus, Stiles, it's really, really late," Derek says, looking at the time on his phone and scowling. "It's time for us to go to the apartment and see if there's something we can eat there, because none of the takeout restaurants will be open at this time of night. And I'm _starving_."

At the mention of food, Stiles' stomach growls, making it obvious that he is also as hungry as Derek himself.

"I know of a perfect place for us to go that will be open and will have good food," Stiles says, stomach growling again. "And it's really near here."

"A place that will sell good food at 2 am near the library of this huge campus? I'm doubting this," Derek says skeptically.

Stiles rolls his eyes. "I don't care if you like it or not, just know that it's very good and you won't be disappointed," he says sitting up. "Follow me."

Derek grudgingly follows, and Stiles thinks it's more because he's hungry than anything.

They leave the library and Stiles leads the way on the empty streets on campus. Stiles takes a turn in an alley until he stops in front of a door with two signs that read OPEN 24 HOURS and FREE WIFI, with a small window on the left where you can see the inside of a poorly lit diner.

"Are you sure this is good?" Derek says frowning.

"The place is amazing, I'm telling you," Stiles insists. "The food is good, the place is open 24 hours, the internet speed is really good and no one knows about this place so it's never crowded. I used to always come to this place when I lived in the dorms."

"If you say so," Derek says unsure. "Come on, I'm starving."

And then he's opening the door.

The place smells of burgers and apple pie, and it only makes Stiles even hungrier. They quickly grab a table and Charlotte, the waitress that is always there when Stiles comes and Stiles is even Facebook friends with, comes by their table to get their order.

"Bacon cheeseburger with extra mayonnaise, curly fries and a coke, Stiles?" Charlotte asks easily, reciting Stiles' usual order.

"That's it, Charlie, thanks," Stiles says with a big smile.

"And what's your friend gonna get?" Charlotte asks Derek.

Derek seems not to be sure, looking at the menu with a frown on his face.

"You should get a veggie burger, Derek," Stiles suggests. "They have a pretty good one. Actually, they have a whole part of the menu for vegetarian dishes, because this place is popular among the witches. The veggie burger is particularly good for, you know, not having meat. I came here with my dad once and he made me eat it with him since I was going to make him eat 'that atrocity of a burger.' But even my dad liked it too in the end. And since you like healthy food, you should give it a try."

"Yeah, that sounds good," Derek agrees, nodding. Then turns to Charlotte. "One veggie burger and an orange juice, please."

When Charlotte leaves, Stiles turn to Derek. "It's really weird how you're a werewolf and you try to eat healthy and salads and vegetables and I've seen you eating countless times before vegetarian food. How do you feel to be breaking the stereotype?"

Derek rolls his eyes. "There's no stereotype, Stiles," Derek says. "That's just something the media tries to impose on you. How many movies with the werewolf hero and the little human girl are you watching? Where the werewolf is buff, only eats meat, doesn't know how to use his words and the girl has to teach him how to act like a human with the power of true love? Seriously, Stiles, I thought better of you." He shakes his head.

"Ooh, sorry, Mr. Werewolf History major guy," Stiles says showing the palm of his hands to Derek, but not really taking any offense in Derek's words. “But you got me, big guy. I _love_ those movies, watched them all. Werewolf romance novels? Phew, my favorites. Which is probably why I’m your mate if we stop to think about it. Broody, stoic, muscular, hairy werewolf? You’re just asking to be changed by the power of love of the Stilinskinator here.” Stiles winks.

Derek rolls his eyes, and surprise, surprise, Stiles actually sees the corners of his mouth starting to curve into a smile! Derek! Smile at something that Stiles said!

The situation is ridiculous, but Stiles admits he feels proud of himself. Derek, _Derek Hale_ , thinking he’s funny. 

“Talking about your major,” Stiles says, changing the subject, because as much as the situation is nice, he doesn’t know if he wants to see Derek full blown smiling at him just yet. It would feel too weird. Stiles is supposed to hate him, and even if Stiles admits that Derek has one of the nicest smiles he has ever seen, it feels too soon, something he doesn’t know if he wants. “What is your thesis about? You work on it day and night, and I’ve seen you talking in Spanish and French and other languages on the phone countless times before, which kudos to you, didn’t know you could speak so many languages. But I guess that has to do with your thesis.”

“Yeah, it does,” Derek says, nodding. “My thesis is about full werewolf shift in European packs. You heard me talking on the phone with some European packs, ones that have history of having alphas that could do a full shift.”

“I see,” Stiles says, finding it all very interesting. Full werewolf shifts were something that always fascinated him, but they were so rare that it was almost impossible to find werewolves that could do it. “Your mom and your sister could do a full werewolf shift, couldn’t they?”

Stiles feels it again: sadness, coming off from Derek in waves, but it’s more of a feeling of nostalgia, too. Stiles can feel how much Derek misses them, and it’s sad to know how they parted, and how.  
“Yeah, they did,” Derek says, with a small sad smile, and he knows he’s remembering them. “Their wolf form was beautiful. Their fur was all black, matching their hair. Mom liked to chase me like that in the full moons when I was a kid, and Laura when we were in New York run with me as a wolf in the Central Park. They were good times.”

It’s obvious how much Derek loved, and loves, them. It’s sad to see Derek’s eyes becoming distant as he starts to remember all those memories from years ago with his family. Now, he has no one. Even though, that’s not actually true. He has a pack, he has his friends, and even if they’re not related by blood, they’re all a family, and they love and care for each other almost as much.

“And have you never tried to transform? Is it even genetic?” Stiles asks, because he’s curious. He must have tried at least once, his mom and sister could, and his thesis is about full werewolf shifts, he must be pretty interested in it. And let’s be honest, every alpha tried that at least once in their lives. Stiles doesn’t know how it works, though, he only knows that it’s supposed to be pretty difficult.  
“It’s not,” Derek explains. “And I’ve tried. Some times.” But Stiles thinks that Derek might be lying, and in the way that he might have tried transforming into a wolf way too many times, arduously so. “It’s not easy, it’s an ability you develop. The mate bond helps with the transformation, but I still haven’t been able to transform.”

“It would be cool, though,” Stiles comments, “Transforming into a wolf. If I were a werewolf and an alpha I would try that so hard. It’s so badass. Even though, if you turned into a wolf everyone in the pack would fight for a turn to do belly rubs on you. And I bet you’d _love_ it.”

Derek rolls his eyes. But before he can say anything in return, the food arrives.

After Derek letting Stiles know that the food is good, which means that he _loved_ it, they eat in companionable silence. The whole situation is really nice. Comfortable. It’s weird to have a decent conversation with Derek for the first time since they met, but it doesn’t feel wrong or out of place. On the contrary, it feels _right_ , like it’s supposed to be.

Stiles doesn’t like to think about it, though. He’s supposed to hate Derek, and he knows that Derek still annoys him most of the time. Since the kitten incident, they’ve been having less and less fights, but they’ve still obviously been fighting, and they still annoy the hell out of each other. It’s with less heat, though, it seems, like they’ve stopped hating each other so much. And Stiles doesn’t know how to feel about it.

Stiles repeats in his mind, for good measure: he _hates_ Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea why but all kittens that have three color fur are female (or like 99.8% of them or something) so if you don't know why i added that there it's bc of that!!!
> 
> the next chapter is bigger than the first ones, and i'm not exactly sure when i'm going to post it. but if things go according to plan, next monday or tuesday everything will be ready to post. :) but i promise next week the fic is ready hehe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to have 4 chapters, but turns out that the last chapter gained a life of its own and it was probably going to have around 20k, so i decided to split the chapter into two!
> 
> but don't worry that the fic is going to get finished next week :) hehe

They talk to Clara, who is very nice and pleasant to them, and soon they issue a request to access the restricted section. During the days that follow to the news of whether they’re gonna be accepted inside or not, Stiles is a ball of nerves, snapping at even the minimal things. And when the response finally comes, 5 days later, which is incredibly soon to their surprise, Stiles is left desolate and on the verge of tears.

They are denied access solely and especially because they’re _mates_. 

You see, most of the people in charge of the section are werewolves of old packs in the west coast, especially Satomi’s. And by being traditionalist werewolves, they think a werewolf breaking a mate bond is something unthinkable, something a werewolf shouldn’t ever do in their life. “Mate bonds are sacred among werewolves,” they said in the e-mail. “We won’t associate in any attempt of a mate pair trying to destroy such divine blessing the world has given to you in the form of true love, companionship, and happiness.”

As soon as they both have read the letter, Stiles doesn’t waste his time in tearing it in a trillion pieces in a fit of anger and throwing it in the trash, screaming his anger in Derek’s direction, who has his passive face on, like he always does. 

Stiles thinks it’s utter bullshit everything the letter says. “True love?” “Companionship?” “Happiness?” With _Derek_? Stiles just wants to laugh at all of that. Sure, Derek might not be that bad once you get to know him. As much as Stiles doesn’t like to admit it, he doesn’t hate Derek as much as before. Nevertheless, Derek is still a pain in the ass most of the time. Stiles can’t even pinpoint how many things about him that bother him, his stoic nature, how rude he is, he just knows that Derek’s _existence_ in general pisses him off; now a little less than a few months ago for sure though.

It still makes him desperate knowing that Derek and he are going to be tied together for the rest of their lives as _mates_. And the news brought by the letter and the realization that they have no escape from that damn bond leave Stiles grumpy and snappish on the days that follow.

___________________________________________________

Stiles is ready to go to his first class of the day on a Wednesday morning, his favorite class of them all, second level of Offensive Spells, when Derek appears by the door of his room and announces even more grumpily than he usually is that they’re not going to class today.

“Oh hell no we aren’t!” Stiles exclaims indignantly, jumping from the chair he’s been sitting on to use his laptop and already making a list of all the reasons why Derek’s idea is a bad idea. Dammit, he _needs_ to go to class.

“We are _not_ ,” Derek states, voice stern. “We’re going into town today. I have matters to attend to.”

“Care to explain what ‘matters’ are these?” Stiles asks, with finger quotes and everything, making sure to mock Derek with his decision. “And to be honest, in the end it doesn’t matter, because nothing is more important than our education. Or well, _my_ education, since you seem not to care about that apparently. Did I tell you that I have to hand in a paper today? Or that my Offensive Spells professor is going to teach us new spells today? And I bet my money that these things are much more important than your ‘matters.’”

“If you really want to know, Stiles,” Derek grits out, adding poison on Stiles’ name. “Today is the fire anniversary. I’m going to the cemetery to visit my family’s grave. Now, can we go?” he says that last bit impatiently.

_Shit._

Shit, shit, shit. Stiles has just been an asshole about the _fire_. It’s a rule among their friends that you never mention it and especially be an asshole about it--not that Stiles ever abided to that rule before, he made sure not to, especially because he wanted to piss Derek off. But now, after all they’ve been through together and after all Stiles has learned about Derek, it just feels _wrong_. Stiles feels horrible about it, a feeling of shame and disgust for himself spreading through all his body, like he did something unspeakable, as he knows he did.

“Oh, okay,” Stiles says, not fully well knowing what to say, embarrassed about the mistake he had just committed. “Sorry about it,” he mumbles, wanting to apologize because he was an asshole but at the same time being too proud to say it clearly enough for Derek to hear it well. Even though, Derek is a werewolf and would probably hear it even from three rooms over in that tone.

“Come on, then,” Derek says, not minding Stiles’ apology and not seeming to be any less happy about Stiles’ presence than he was before.

They drive the Camaro to town in utter silence, not even the radio turned on to fill in the lack of noise. And being in such close proximity with Derek without any distractions, he wonders how he didn’t notice there was something wrong with him before.

Stiles can feel Derek’s grief, and sadness, and mourning. Stronger than he had ever felt coming from him, comparing to those times Stiles was present when Derek remembered his family. It’s a gut quenching feeling that makes you sick on the stomach, and Stiles can relate to it from the time his mom died, and from every day of the year on the anniversary of his mom’s death when he and his father get together and remember how great she was to them. 

It leaves Stiles feeling terrible all the way on the trip to the cemetery, but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything, just gives Derek space to feel his sadness because Stiles knows how he needs it, from his own personal experience. 

When they get there, Stiles follows Derek silently to the Hale family grave, and when they find it, Stiles decides to give Derek space once again and gets as far away as possible from him as he can, even if he knows that he probably still be able to hear Derek from the distance apart.

He grabs his phone and starts getting distracted. He plays Candy Crush until he doesn’t have any more lives, plays Kim Kardashian Hollywood and gets a new boyfriend and a new job, reblogs a few cool photography pictures on Tumblr, reads all the tweets on his timeline on Twitter he hadn’t read since the night before, and Derek still doesn’t seem to want to move from the grave.

However, around the two and a half hour mark, Stiles starts hearing Derek very, very loudly.

“I’m so, so sorry, mom,” Derek sobs, voice loud and filled filled with desperation, like he isn’t able to control himself with all the feelings that are going on inside him, and Stiles can’t help but try to get a better view of him. He finds Derek crouching in front of his family’s grave, tears strolling down his face, and bawling uncontrollably. “I killed all of you, I did, I am so sorry. I deserve to die too, I should’ve died in your place. I should’ve died with you. Cora, mom, dad, the twins, aunt Kathy, uncle Ben, Laura, Peter, _everyone_ , all dead because of _me_. I don’t have _anyone_.” Derek says that last word an octave higher, almost a scream, clawing his face with blunt nails.

Stiles feels almost ashamed of witnessing Derek like this, because he knows that Derek wouldn’t want to ever be seen like this by anyone. And fuck, it breaks his heart like nothing else before to see Derek so desolate and broken and crying like there’s nothing right in the world, all because his family, his favorite people in the world, have died by a mistake on his part.

So he makes a decision.

He approaches Derek, crouching down on his feet next to Derek and placing a hand on his shoulder in a soothing manner.

“Shh, Derek,” Stiles soothes, in a soft tone.

Derek only sobs harder, eyes red and face drenched in tears.

“It’s not your fault, okay?” Stiles says, rubbing his thumb in circles on Derek’s shoulder. “You couldn’t have known. You were just a child. What Kate did with you first of all was a crime, because she was an adult and you were only a teenager. That’s rape, did you know that? Statutory rape, but still rape nonetheless. She was vile, and you’re _not_ to blame. Don’t ever make anyone or especially yourself think that you’re the reason your family was murdered.”

Derek looks up to Stiles, eyes big and lost. He looks like the kid Stiles saw in the police reports from the station from the fire all those years ago from when they met, and Stiles is overcome with fondness for him that he doesn’t know where it came from.

He brings Derek closer, making his face bury in Stiles’ chest while he cries.

“Your family loved you very much, Derek, they wouldn’t want you to blame yourself for their death,” Stiles says softly. “ _They_ wouldn’t blame you for their death, I bet they wouldn’t. I bet that if you told Laura what happened she would have helped you, listened to you and told you everything I’m telling you right now. They _loved_ you, okay?” Stiles pets Derek’s hair with his free hand, carding his finger through his locks in a soothing manner. “And the pack loves you too. You said you don’t have anyone but you have the pack. The pack is your family; we love you, Derek, we wouldn’t ever let you alone. And you’ve achieved so much with them, I remember how you were a few years back. You’ve became such a good alpha, Derek, with the help of Scott, everyone, and resilience on your part. Your mom would be proud.”

Derek clings to Stiles like a leech, grabbing the front of his T-shirt with his fingers and seeming to never want to let it go. He cries for what seems for it to be hours, leaving Stiles’ shirt wet and tousled, with only Stiles whispering words of encouragement in his ear like, “There you go” and “You can cry, Derek, come on, it’s good for you.”

Eventually the crying slowly recedes and Derek detaches himself from Stiles’ body, looking absolutely wrecked with eyes swollen and red and face covered in tears and nose full of snot--which he seems to take care of, by using the sleeve of his shirt to clean it up. Stiles would find it disgusting, but somehow with Derek, that time and day, he finds it remotely endearing. 

Stiles, then, has an idea to cheer Derek up. He sits up, while Derek is still near the ground, and says, “So, what do you think about running with me in the forest?” He nods to the forest on the edge of the cemetery.

Derek perks up at that, seeming to be interested and a lot more happy than he was moments before when he was crying his eyes off.

“That would be nice,” he says with his voice still hoarse from crying, and still too sad to express too much enthusiasm.

“Come on, then,” Stiles says, Stiles extending his hand to Derek. Derek takes it and gets up quickly, with the help of his werewolf strength. “Now, I bet you can’t run faster than me,” Stiles says grinning, and then he’s taking off after winking in Derek’s direction.

They run for miles and miles, and Derek obviously always takes the lead. Stiles is fast though, because even if he didn’t agree running the other day, Stiles loves running, he ran track back in high school and he was fairly good at it. Stiles is fast, but for a human, and Derek is a werewolf, so he’s always in front of Stiles, so he ends up shouting in Stiles’ direction how Stiles already lost the bet, and “Is that all you’ve got, Stiles?” in a teasing manner. It’s fun, and by the end of the hours they run the miles and miles all the way into the Beacon Hills forest, they’re sweaty and tired and happy with serotonin. 

When they’re back in the apartment, they sag onto the couch and order two large meat lover pizzas, which they eat watching reruns of CSI on TV without saying a word to each other, just enjoying each other’s company and the entertainment of the TV.

____________________________________________________

For the first time in weeks, Stiles wakes up that morning with the alarm on his phone and not with that damn mixer that Derek insists on using at 6 am--which Stiles already gave up on trying to make him stop, because he knows it’s a futile attempt.

At first he rises slowly, but then he notices the delicious smell of pancakes coming from the kitchen and he’s suddenly very awake. Especially because at the smell, Stiles’ stomach automatically growls. Pancakes are exactly Stiles’ favorite breakfast food, and he’s lost count how many times he’s dragged a bunch of hungover werewolves to the IHOP too early in the morning because he craved pancakes. It’s a shame, though, that Stiles knows that Derek never cooks for him, only for himself. All the time Stiles has been in that apartment, Derek hasn’t cooked for Stiles even once--that is, of course, when the others aren’t there, because when Scott, Boyd, Erica, and the troupe are there and Derek cooks, he of course lets Stiles have some. But Derek cooking for himself and Stiles? That’s something that Stiles would never expect of him.

He gets up and heads to the kitchen, aiming for the Pop Tarts and orange juice, that he knows that are not as delicious as the pancakes probably are but at least are good substitutes. He finds Derek in the kitchen table, eating, and he mutters a sleepy, “Mornin’,” before going to the cabinets and grabbing the Pop Tarts, ready to put them in the toaster.

“Good morning,” Derek says from the table, way too cheerful to be up at 7:30 am like he always is. “I made breakfast, do you want some?”

Then Stiles, still sleepy, turns to the table and finds there way too many pancakes on a plate for Derek to be able to eat on his own. And, is Stiles interpreting this correctly? Did Derek really cook breakfast for them? For _Stiles_?

“What?” Stiles voices his thoughts, confused. Because he doesn’t understand how Derek for the first time in Stiles’ life suddenly started cooking for him. But even though, he’s quick to say, because he isn’t going to deny a perfect breakfast when people offer to him, “I mean, yes. Yes, definitely, I want breakfast.”

He quickly sits on the table and grabs way too many pancakes, eager to eat them because he’s hungry and especially because he knows Derek is a great cook. When he takes the first bite, though, he’s surprised, even if he knows about Derek’s culinary skills, because the pancakes taste _amazing_. 

“Woah, Derek,” Stiles says, voicing his pleasant surprise. “This tastes really good. Did you make them from scratch?”

“Yeah, I did,” Derek says, smiling. “They were my mom’s recipe. Pretty good, huh?”

“Amazing,” Stiles says between mouthfuls. “Thanks, dude.”

“I should be the one thanking you. The pancakes are for, you know,” Derek tries to say awkwardly. “I wanted to thank you for yesterday. It meant a lot what you did for me.”

Stiles feels touched by Derek’s act. He could’ve shrugged it off, but he’s acknowledging the events of yesterday, the moment, if Stiles could call it that, that they had together. He’s not only acknowledging it, but he’s being nice to Stiles, doing something in return, something he hasn’t done in his whole life. And Stiles finds himself appreciating it a whole lot.

“It was no problem at all,” Stiles tries to shrug it off, because it truly wasn’t. Stiles was being a decent human being yesterday, and he couldn’t bear to see Derek like that in front of his family’s grave. “Yesterday, all I did was tell you the truth. The truth you needed to hear and I think the truth you’ll still be needing to hear for awhile for it to sink in your head. But know that your pack, Scott, and also I will always be around to tell you those things when you need it, so don’t hesitate to seek help.”

“Well, you were always the one who made sure to tell me the contrary of what you told me yesterday when we were fighting not only a couple weeks ago,” Derek reminds him of the harsh truth.

Stiles feels a pang of guilt cross his chest. Because, yeah, Stiles has said some awful things to Derek before, some _really_ horrible things, especially about the fire, and he always rubbed Derek’s insecurities and fears on his face, even if they weren’t remotely true and Stiles knew it. He only did it because he hated Derek, and he wanted to see Derek angry, he wanted to see Derek sad, he wanted to rile Derek up and piss him off more than anything. Now, though, he doesn’t, and he feels terribly guilty about all the things he’s said before. Especially seeing with his own eyes the effect of what his words can have on Derek, how broken they can leave him.

He realizes that seeing Derek sad or angry isn’t something that he thrives for anymore, and actually, it’s something that he doesn’t want anymore, nor he likes--if he stops to think about it, the only thing Stiles truly wants Derek to be is happy right now. And he’s not sure what he’ll do with that realization other than apologize for his past acts and try to mend his relationship with Derek on the best way possible, because as much as he was stuck in this train of thought of hating Derek, Stiles knows that that isn’t worth anymore and in the end it’s only hurting them even further.

“I’m really sorry about that,” Stiles says sincerely. “I was an asshole. I _am_ an asshole most of the time. I would say that I never meant any harm, but that would be a lie. I did, but I promise that I don’t do anymore.” He clasps his hands together and looks at it, embarrassed about the situation. 

“It’s okay,” Derek says, smiling in an understanding manner. “I was an asshole to you too. You aren’t the only one who’s said awful things to me. I remember that I even said awful things about your mother to you once, not to mention how I’ve caused _physical_ harm to you before. And for that I’m truly sorry too. I regret everything I did in the past and I don’t intend on doing them again.”

Stiles smiles at that. “I’m glad we’re on the same page then. I don’t know, I just…” he trails off, looking for his words. “It doesn’t feel right anymore, you know? How much we fought and hated each other. We’ve been through a lot together, learned things about each other. I don’t see you the same way I did before. I don’t hate you anymore, and I’m glad to hear you don’t hate me too.” He broadens his smile, and then adds, a bit tentatively, “Now… friends? Of sorts?” 

“Definitely,” Derek says, returning a warm smile. “Friends.”

____________________________________________________

“So, how are things with Derek?” Scott asks between their game of Call of Duty that night--because Scott is an angel and brought their video game to Derek’s house so Stiles could play. Bless him.

“Good,” Stiles says, not sure how else to describe their newfound friendship

“Good?” Scott pries, wanting a better answer. “What do you mean ‘good?’ Good as in, we still verbally harass each other and then fuck our brains out for hours or good as in we’re ready to go to Vegas and get married at one of their chapels?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Neither, okay, Scott?” Stiles says. “We’re… friends. Sort of? I don’t know.” Stiles frowns. “It’s a recent thing. We don’t hate each other anymore, at all, but we’re not exactly best friends. We coexist, and it’s… nice, dare I say.”

“So you’re finally in good terms with each other? That’s great!” Scott exclaims happily.

“It’s pretty great, yeah,” Stiles agrees. “Derek is pretty cool once you get to know him, and god knows how I never knew I’d be saying this. He’s… interesting. And he can be nice when he wants to. Did you know that he volunteers at an animal shelter? And that he takes care of _kittens_? Dude, you gotta see him feeding them, it’s sickeningly adorable. And his relationship with the old lady there? I never thought I would associate the word ‘sweet’ to Derek before, but there I was a few weeks ago doing so.”

Scott looks at him with an amused expression. “Oh, I think Stiles has a crush,” he says teasingly.

Stiles glares. “Scott, shut up!” Stiles hisses. “Of course not!”

“I’m just saying the truth, Stiles,” Scott says. “It sounds like you have a giant crush on Derek. Wouldn’t blame you, though, everyone has had a crush on Derek before. Have you seen him?” He whistles. “And saying this as a completely heterosexual dude, I probably wouldn’t complain if I had an opportunity to have sex with Derek once. Just to know how it feels.”

Stiles shoots him a horrified look. “God, Scott, _no._ Don’t talk about you and Derek that way ever again. I’m going to have nightmares!” He fakes a shudder.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to steal your man,” Scott says teasingly. “I bet he has as much as a giant crush on you as you have on him though, so don’t worry.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Scott, it’s _not_ a crush. I definitely don’t like Derek romantically, okay? We’re not even having sex anymore because we can only seem to have sex once we engage in fights. And mine and Derek’s relationship right now? Completely fightless. For the first time in our lives. And as much as I want to have sex with him, because like you pointed out, Derek is smoking hot, I wouldn’t want to have anything to do with Derek romantically, especially just because of this bullshit mate bond. I still don’t want this, okay? I still don’t want this goddamn bond.”

“And what are you going to do about it, then?” Scott asks.

“I don’t know,” Stiles says grumpily, having a headache just thinking about how they’re breaking the bond. “I’m thinking of trying to go to another supernatural university and using their library, if they allow me to. I just.” He sighs, carding his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll find a way, okay,” Scott says reassuringly, using his hand to rub circles on Stiles’ shoulder. “You always do. You always find a way for everything.”

“Thank you, Scott,” Stiles says, smiling sadly.

__________________________________________________

One night, Stiles is almost falling asleep reading a boring book for one of his classes, sprawled on his bed, when Derek appears by door of Stiles’ room and says to get his attention, “Hey, Stiles!”

Stiles turns away from the book to look at Derek, and Stiles definitely appreciates how Derek looks amazing wearing tight black jeans and a wifebeater that shows all his chest hair, which Stiles admits he loves. “Hm?” Stiles says, a little distracted by the sight in front of him.

“I made dinner,” Derek says grinning. “It’s your favorite. Come on, you’ve been studying all evening, you gotta be hungry.”

And at that, Stiles realizes that he is hungry. In fact, he’s _starving_. The last thing he ate was a burrito hours and hours ago during lunch, and that is long since gone, but he was so engrossed in his studies that he didn’t even notice how hungry he actually is.

He hops off from the bed quickly, eager to eat whatever Derek cooked for him, because the prospects of eating whatever Derek cooked for him made him even hungrier--even if he doesn’t know what this “favorite food” is, because he says to everyone that a lot of foods are his favorite, everything that Derek cooks ends up being amazing, and Stiles will never lose an opportunity to eat it.

“I’m actually _starving,_ ” Stiles grouses. 

“Good,” Derek says, grinning. “Come on.” He motions with his hands to the living room.

As soon as Stiles enters the living room, he’s accosted by the familiar smell of two dishes that he loves. And when he sets his eyes on the table and sees burgers and curly fries sitting there, his face breaks into an ecstatic smile.

“Oh my god, Derek, curly fries and burgers?!” Stiles exclaims excitedly, turning to Derek.

“They’re your favorites, right?” Derek asks, and he looks pleased with himself.

“ _Yes,_ ” Stiles says enthusiastically. “I love you so much, god, thank you, you’re a godsend,” he enthuses.

Derek shoots him a pleased smile in return.

Stiles eagerly sits on the table, grabbing a burger and a good amount of curly fries, knowing that he’ll probably eat seconds, and thirds, and fourths, just by the look of them. Stiles knows that Derek can cook very well, and it is proven by when Stiles takes a bite of the curly fry and he inevitably moans with how good they taste. However, with the burgers, and the curly fries, and the taste of them all, Stiles accosted by memories.

Derek, in front of him from the other side of the table, automatically drops the burger he had been holding. He frowns, and is quick to say, "Is there something wrong? Did _I_ do something wrong?"

"No, no," Stiles denies quickly, not wanting to get into the matter. "There's nothing wrong."

"But you're," Derek says, scrunching his nose and frowning, trying to look for better words, "leaking your feelings all over the apartment. Or well, to me. And they're bad feelings."

“It’s just that,” Stiles struggles with words, pausing. “Before she died, my mom used to cook for me and my dad. This was our special meal, burgers and curly fries. Which is exactly the reason why curly fries are my favorite food in existence. And, well, your curly fries taste exactly like hers. It all just reminded me of my mom, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek apologizes. “We can eat something else. We can-- I’ll order takeout, you like Chinese, right? I’m sure Boyd and Erica next door still haven’t eaten anything.” He gets up and starts grabbing the plates quickly.

“No, no!” Stiles says quickly, and Derek stops what he had been doing. “No, Derek. I want to eat it. The curly fries taste delicious and dinner overall looks amazing. Thank you for thinking of me.” He smiles. “It’s just that it reminded me of my mom, and it’s not even a bad thing per se--it’s just nostalgia, it happens all the time with dead relatives, you know that probably better than I do.”

Derek nods, sitting back onto his chair and grabbing his burger again.

“My mom was the one who taught me how to cook,” Derek shares, like Stiles had been sharing about his mother. “She used to cook delicious meals and ever since I was little I helped her out in the kitchen. When I was a teenager I started asking her to teach me more complicated recipes; our mother-son bonding was always in the kitchen baking and cooking dinner for everyone. And after the fire I cooked as a way to remember her, to keep her memory alive.”

“I tried cooking because of my mom,” Stiles says, cringing at the memory. “Let’s just say it didn’t go well. At all. Like 0 out of 10 would definitely not do it again.”

“It couldn’t possibly had gone so bad,” Derek tries to reason, amused by Stiles’ wording.

“Oh but it did,” Stiles says laughing. “I tried to cook a casserole back in my freshman year of high school. It was my mom’s recipe, and I loved when she cooked it, so I thought, why not? Well, it started going bad when I almost chopped off my finger cutting the vegetables--it bled a lot, okay? But okay, I survived. So I put the casserole dish in the oven, and I go to the living room to watch TV. And when I come back 15 minutes later, boom! The fire alarm was blasting in my ears and the oven is on fire. But you don’t understand, Derek, the flames were _really_ big, so so big that the curtains of the kitchen window were on fire too. And to make matters worse my dad wasn’t home! I was fourteen years old! It was traumatizing!”

Derek cackles, covering his mouth with his hands.

“It was ridiculous,” Stiles says grinning. “The fire department came to my house, and I was dumb enough to try to extinguish the fire on my own so my house was full of smoke. My father got pissed at me, prohibited me from cooking ever again in that house. And well, after that I guess I never tried. I got a bit traumatized.”

“I could teach you how to cook,” Derek suggests easily. “I have a bit of practice of teaching people. I used to work at a bakery in New York and they always gave me the newbies to train. We could start small, and you could help me out more than anything. My mom had some really easy but pretty great recipes, and I still have them all. I think we can start with those.”

“That would be nice, actually,” Stiles says, interested. Stiles has always wanted to learn how to cook, especially because of his mom, but ever since the casserole incident he hasn’t been able to build the courage to. But with Derek by his side, he thinks he can definitely overcome that. “So you still have your mom’s recipes? Didn’t the fire burn them all?”

“About that,” Derek says, changing the tone of the conversation. “‘I’ve been meaning to tell you about this, but you have to understand that this isn’t something that I can tell everyone but…” He pauses, and it only grows Stiles’ curiosity. “My family has a vault in Beacon Hills, it’s located in the high school, but that’s because the vault was there first. We store what’s valuable to us there: money, art, and books, culinary and well, others.”

“So does this mean…” Stiles trails off, wanting Derek to say for himself and not wanting to get his hopes up.

“The Hale vault has one of the greatest supernatural book collections that are not in libraries in the west coast, yes,” Derek says, nodding. “I think we can find something to break the bond there.”

Stiles’ face breaks in the biggest smile he could ever muster. He feels hope flooding his chest again--he doesn’t even care that Derek has been hiding this all this time. He understands that this concerns his family, his _dead_ family, all he has left of them. Stiles wouldn’t want anyone to go poking around on the stuff he has left of his family, but now at least Derek feels comfortable enough around Stiles to bring him to the vault and let him read the books and find a way to break the bond there.

“This is-- Wow, this is great, Derek,” Stiles says, trying to express his enthusiasm. “We should go there tomorrow! We should go there every day! How big is this library again?”

Derek chuckles. “We only have books on werecreature lore and emissary/druid magic there, and a few bestiaries, because that’s the topics that interested us. But let’s just say that we have a little, but very little, less books about that than BHSU’s library.”

“Okay,” Stiles says nodding. “Do you think we can find what we’re looking for there?”

“Honestly?” Derek says. “I do think we have a great possibility. The library is huge. We have books that were passed down from generations and generations of the Hale family. If there’s a place that we can find a way to break the bond, it’s my family’s library.”

“So we’re definitely going to go there,” Stiles says, happier than he’s been in ages, because not only now he’s in a good place with Derek, but he has good chances of getting rid of the bond, which is something he still, even after everything, he doesn’t want.

________________________________________________

Not even one day later they're already driving to Beacon Hills and working inside the Hale vault, reading the piles and piles of books located in it. The vault is huge, Stiles is surprised to find, and he's surprised to see how it had been there all his high school career under his nose and he never noticed. The quantity of books Stiles finds there surprises him too, and even though they're old, they all thankfully seem to be written in English.

Stiles is flooded with hope again, and the prospect of them finally, and surely finding a way to break their mate bond has left Stiles with a total different mood that had been stuck with him the past weeks. Before that, Stiles had been grumpy and irritated most of the days, especially because he barely had time to breath all day and on top of all that he had to deal with Derek, who he still hated more than anything. Now, he thinks he can finally get rid of this damn bond, and to make things better his relationship with Derek is better than he ever thought it would be. He actually enjoys Derek presence now, he has fun with Derek, he _likes_ Derek and he _cares_ about him, even if those things would sound absurd to him a few weeks ago. And he likes that, it's not something that feels out of place.

Stiles' mood improved so much that he's also been sleeping better, which something unthinkable happens to him one Saturday morning: he wakes up at 7 am on his own.

Derek stopped waking him up with the mixer by the time after the fire anniversary, and since then he's sleeping until later every day--whenever they don't have classes, of course. And that day Stiles rises slowly and even when he looks at his phone to check the time he sees it's 7:13 am and is shocked because he _never_ wakes up early on his own. Especially because yesterday he went to sleep at 1 am because he was rewatching Game of Thrones with Derek, until Derek passed out around 1 am on Stiles' shoulder and Stiles decided to call it a night.

He goes to the kitchen and finds a fresh pot of coffee sitting on the kitchen table. He drinks it avidly while his Pop Tarts get heated on the toaster, and after they're done he heads to the living room to eat them there.

There, he finds Derek in only sweats, chest absolutely bare, doing pushups. He seems to be doing exercises for quite some time, because his chest is glistening with sweat, and his face is flushed with exertion. And damn, just the sight of Derek like that makes Stiles start to get slightly aroused, or at least definitely interested and with a hard side of ogling going on.

It's pretty hard, Stiles admits, living with Derek and in good terms with him but not being able to touch him. That's probably the only thing that didn't change about Stiles' feelings for Derek: Stiles still wants to fuck him, he still wants to have sex so dirty with him that by the end of it they'd both be panting, worn out and unable to do anything but lie down and enjoy the post-orgasm bliss. Which makes living with Derek a living hell, because Derek probably has something personal against shirts.

That was a recent thing, though, but Stiles thinks it's because Derek finally felt safe around Stiles after their recent friendship status. But well, nowadays it's pretty rare for Stiles not to find Derek barechested walking around the house, only with a comfortable pair of sweats--which, to make it worse, he wears it with _no underwear_ so sometimes Stiles can even see the outline of his dick. Not to mention all the times that Derek takes a shower and leaves the bathroom to go to his room without even a towel wrapped around his waist--which Stiles knows is a consequence of living in a traditional werewolf family, but _still_. And also, Stiles swears that Derek masturbates with his doors open just to drive Stiles even more insane, and the worst thing is that Derek isn't quiet at all, and his moans that echo around the house are enough to make Stiles cave in and masturbate too, without even having to think of anything else, just focus on the sound of Derek's needy moans and the sound of his hand stroking his dick.

Trying to will his thoughts away from Derek's physique to stop his erection, especially because Derek is right in front of him, he tries to focus on other things, like talking, which he's good at.

"Good morning, Derek," Stiles says cheerfully from the couch. "You look like you're busting your ass off."

"Morning," Derek says with ragged breaths as he does a pushup. "I've been trying to get a heavy workout for a few days. I haven't gone running in months, apart from that day with you, and I'm putting on some weight. I can't afford that."

"You look fine to me," Stiles says between a bite of his Pop Tarts. "Like really fine, dude, don't worry. I bet you could walk in the Jungle and get out of there with half the club wanting to get fucked by you, don't worry."

Derek frowns. "The scale says I put on 6 pounds in just three months, and I know for a fact that it isn't muscle. I need to work out."

"I have an idea," Stiles says, thinking of something that will really cheer Derek up, and something that Stiles will really like too. Especially because he barely has things to study for and it's not even 8 am.

"What's it?" Derek asks, sitting on the floor and grabbing a water bottle and drinking it in big gulps.

"Do you like hikes?" Stiles starts.

"Yeah, I do," Derek says nodding, sounding interested.

"I have this really sweet place to go on a hike," Stiles says, getting excited. "It's beautiful. I think you're gonna like it and it's a good workout. And it's something that I like too, we could do it together. We have fun and then you don't gain weight, what do you say?"

"Sounds good," Derek says, giving Stiles a small smile.

"Okay, good!" Stiles says, getting up from the couch and giving the last bite of his Pop Tart. "Put on some hiking clothes and good shoes. We're gonna hike!"

They leave shortly after that in Stiles' car. And by the half an hour mark they're in the car, Derek starts getting antsy.

"Where are we going, again?" Derek asks in the passenger seat, looking at the trees around the road.

"It's a place that my father used to take me on the weekends," Stiles explains. "It's a little bit closer to Beacon Hills, but it's already far from the city, so it's quite a few trip from campus. But don't worry, we'll get there. You're gonna love it."

When they get there, Stiles directs them to a track, that he remembers walking with his dad. Derek seems a lot more excited seeing that it's a narrow one, with trees and wild bushes crossing the path. They start walking without saying anything, but by the end of the second mile Stiles starts commenting on the nature of the place--the trees, the butterflies, the foxes that appear and run to the other side from how afraid they are of them. Derek talks to Stiles back, sometimes even laughs at Stiles' commentary, and they hike slowly but on a perfect pace for them, having fun, talking and appreciating the nature around them.

It's two and a half hours later that they reach their destination, or well, the place that Stiles was leading them and Derek had no idea existed. By the end of the track, it takes a turn that makes it impossible to see what's in the end of it, but when they take the turn, they see what it is: a beautiful lake. It's not big, more like medium sized, but the wonderful thing about is that the far border of it ends in the cliff of the mountain, so when you swim to that border you can appreciate the view of the rest of the Beacon Hills forest in the comfort of the lake.

"Wow," Derek says, flabbergasted by the view.

"It's really beautiful, isn't it?" Stiles says, proud of himself for having thought of this.

"It really is," Derek agrees. "I'm surprised a lot of people don't know of this place. It's amazing."

"The track is kinda old, so it's easy to get lost in it," Stiles says. "I know my way around here, so I knew where to go. But if you didn't you'd probably get lost here and never get out. My dad used to take me here and we went fishing in this lake. It was our father-son bonding time. We used to do it every month before I went to college."

"It's really nice, though," Derek says, not looking away from the view. "Thanks for showing it to me."

"You're welcome," Stiles says easily. "But it's no problem, because to be honest I was dying to come here again. I missed this place."

And then Stiles takes off his shirt, quickly getting rid of his pants next. He has his hands ready to shove his underwear down his legs when Derek turns to him, eyes widen, and says, "Stiles, what are you _doing?_ "

"I'm going to swim in the lake!" Stiles says excitedly. "Come on, Derek, we came all the way here and we're not going to swim in the lake? Are you really that boring?"

Derek rolls his eyes. "Stiles, that water is probably very cold. Are you sure you want to swim there?"

"Dude, I've swam here countless of times before," Stiles says, this time rolling his eyes himself. "You just have to look out for the fish not to bite your dick offt," he adds, teasing.

"Stiles!" Derek reprimands, but he looks like he wants to laugh, and Stiles counts that as a victory.

"Kidding, kidding," Stiles laughs, clapping his hands on Derek's chest. "But come on, let's swim. It's hot, okay? I walked miles and miles all the way here not to swim in this perfect lake?"

"Okay, okay," Derek concedes. "But if the water is freezing _I'm_ going to bite your dick out."

"Ooh, kinky!" Stiles teases.

Derek just shoves him playfully, which causes Stiles to laugh.

After that, Derek starts getting rid of his clothes, and watching Derek undress first his shirt and then his track pants, his white boxer briefs cupping his crotch in a sinful way, is a little bit too much for Stiles. He gets rid too fast of his underwear and jumps on the water and--fuck, it _is_ cold, and the ice freezing water is enough to will his erection away.

Derek enters the water slowly, and Stiles pointedly doesn't look at his dick. Nuh-huh, because looking at something that you can't have is just like torturing yourself and Stiles won't do that to himself. 

And as soon as Derek is knees deep into the water, he starts complaining, "Fuck, Stiles, this is really cold."

"Come on, can't you handle a little cold?" Stiles teases. "The mighty werewolf is afraid of a little cold water?"

Derek having getting closer to Stiles, just throws water on Stiles' head, that was still dry because he still hadn't dived yet.

Stiles shoots him an affronted glare, but it’s more playful than anything. But then, at that, he has an idea. 

"You asked for it, Derek!" Stiles says, grinning madly at himself.

And then Stiles is throwing himself at Derek, making Derek sink in the water and soaking him from head to toe. They engage in a wrestling fight after that, hands trying to get a grip on each other but slipping because of the water, and bodies sliding close together underwater, all of that to see who can soak each other even more, to make the other stay underwater and soak their hair and suffer with the ice cold water. It's playful, though, delightfully so, there's no heat in their laughs and slight grunts and shoves. And Stiles knows that he hasn't had this much fun in a long time.

The only problem though is that, at that, Derek's hands keep going everywhere Stiles' body, and Stiles' hand also return the favor, grabbing and sliding at every part--legs, arms, torso, thighs, _ass_. And it also doesn't help how Stiles' crotch, now free from any fabric, keeps rubbing all over Derek's body, especially his _own_ crotch. Every time Stiles' dick touches Derek's, Stiles can't help but groan, which is clearly forgotten by the heat of the moment, but with every movement of theirs, with every push and pull and slide, Stiles' erection keep growing stronger and his arousal keeps driving him insane.

And then one time their dicks touch, sliding together underwater, making pleasure shoot all over Stiles' body and also making him realize that-- Oh. Derek is hard _too_. And he doesn't know how he never noticed that earlier, but the feeling of arousal coming from Derek, that he can feel because of the bond and that he knows very well from other times, is strong, and Stiles realizes that his arousal has been that strong during their little game _because_ it was being boosted by Derek's. And the realization only makes him want to crave even more contact, to wrap his mouth around Derek's and moan and jack both their dicks together until they're panting and coming in their hands.

The distraction seems to be fatal though, because Derek takes the opportunity to pin Stiles down and finally sink him to the water so he isn't able to come to the surface. Stiles stays underwater for a few seconds, not worrying about Derek drowning him at all, which would be a real fear a few weeks ago in this situation, and then Derek is hauling him up by the shoulders to the surface.

"Got ya," Derek says grinning, looking absolutely gorgeous with wet hair and chest, and little droplets of water stuck in his eyelashes.

"Yeah," Stiles agrees, out of breath.

And then Derek, without breaking his smile, is leaning in and wrapping their mouths together.

Stiles isn't surprised at the motion, he isn't. Somehow, that doesn't feel out of place. Being together with Derek right then and there feels _right_. He throws himself deeply into the kiss, opening his mouth avidly and letting Derek explore it with his tongue as much as he wants to, because Stiles wants it too, he _craves_ it, has been thinking about this nonstop for weeks. And when their tongues finally touch, Stiles can't help but moan, drowning on the feeling of the soft skin of Derek's lips on his own, of Derek's tongue dancing on his mouth with his own, and the added sensation of the water that is between them, making their body slide together more easily.

For the first time in their relationship, their kiss isn't rough or angry or filled with hate and animosity for the other. On the contrary, it's filled with only positive emotions--it's caring, sweet, and gentle, and Stiles would even classify it as loving. Their bodies also seem to work like that too, because once they would be shoving and causing any sort of damage to each other, now they're drawing each other closer and not seeming to want to let it go. Stiles isn't complaining with the way Derek uses his arms to lace Stiles body closer to him in a hug, because he wants to feel Derek's whole body with his own, every patch of skin and every little corner, until nothing else matters but the fact that they're intertwined together.

Eventually, they break the kiss, but only for Derek to move to Stiles' neck. He starts leaving trails of little kisses from his mouth to his jaw to his neck, in an adorable manner but that only makes Stiles breath hitch. Derek then starts kissing and licking the tender skin of Stiles' neck avidly, and when he finally sucks a generous bruise on the skin under Stiles' ear, Stiles can't help but buck his hips against Derek's crotch. And _god_ , just the idea of getting a hickey from Derek and the sensation of Derek actually doing it to him seconds ago would be enough for Stiles to let out a moan, but with the added sensation of Derek's cock sliding against his, which makes everything ten thousand times better with the water between them, it’s impossible not to throw his head back and mewl, grabbing Derek's shoulders with his hands in a strong grip in a way to anchor himself.

"God, Derek, ah," Stiles moans as Derek continues working on his neck. "This is great but, fuck, I really, really need you to touch my dick."

Derek doesn't seem fazed, he only gets Stiles' earlobe in his mouth and sucks on it, driving Stiles' insane and making him thrust his hips again.

"Please, Derek, _please,_ " Stiles resorts to begging. "I'll do anything."

Derek seems to be interested in that finally, because he backs again from Stiles neck to look him in the eye. He's smiling--no, smirking, predatorily so, and he finally concedes to Stiles' requests and gets his hand on Stiles' dick, giving it a long stroke.

"Anything?" he asks, still smirking.

"Y-yeah," Stiles moans, breathless and mind clouded with the pleasure of Derek stroking his dick.

"I think I can think of a few things I want from you," Derek says lowly, using his free hand to cup Stiles' balls and play with them, which only makes Stiles little moans and whimpers get even louder. "For starters, I want you spread out on my bed for me to do whatever I want with you. I'd suck you off nice and slow for hours, paying close attention to your balls that I know that you like so much. But I wouldn't let you come. Oh, no, I’d want to drag this out. Then I'd rim you while I finger you, stretching you wide open with my fingers and my tongue, getting you ready for my cock. And only then I'd fuck you so hard you'd see white while I ram into you. And you'd so spent after you come you wouldn't be able to get out of the bed."

"Oh god," Stiles moans, closing his eyes and focusing on Derek speeding up the movements of his hands.

"I also want to leave bruises all over your body," Derek says, and Stiles feels Derek's face on his neck. And next thing he knows Derek is sucking a bruise on the base of his neck, one that he knows that will take days to fade. And fuck, does he like it. "You'll be bruised from head to toe, and everyone on campus will know that I've had my ways with you. That I fucked you, that you're _mine_."

Stiles cries out, bucking his hips up and seeking more friction. Derek's hand has speeded up quite a bit, and his other one is still playing with his balls, tugging on them.

"You know what else I want to do?" Derek murmurs, and Stiles opens his eyes to find him close to his face, still smiling. "I want to _knot_ you." Stiles' eyes widen at that and he can't help but to let out an involuntary moan, just thinking about being knotted again. Derek's smirk only deepens. "Yeah, I want to knot you again. Stretch you wide open with my dick, until you're grasping the sheets not knowing if it's in pleasure or in pain. Want you to fill you up with my come, leave you full for hours, with my dick locked inside you."

And that was enough for Stiles. He pictures himself being knotted in vivid details, just like Derek said, and he can't help but come all over Derek's hand. His whole body spasms, and he has to cling to Derek's shoulders for him not to submerge into the lake. He swears he sees white with how hard he comes, letting out the loudest mewl he had ever heard coming out of himself.

Riding Stiles' orgasm out slowly, Derek continues stroking his cock in gentle strokes, but now he leans forward and catches Stiles' mouth with his own. Derek kisses Stiles with hunger, not seeming to have gotten enough of Stiles yet, and eventually Stiles feels too sensitive to have Derek stroking him, hissing and making Derek drop his hand.

Stiles reaches for Derek's cock, then, because Derek hasn't come yet, and even if Stiles already did, he's dying to touch Derek. He has been dreaming of this for weeks, of being able to touch Derek as much as he wants to, to make him moan and whine at his touch, to feel Derek's body against his palm. And he definitely isn't losing this opportunity now.

At the contact of Stiles' hand on his dick, Derek seems to melt, not seeming to being able to control himself when he lets out a deep whine as Stiles gives his dick a long stroke and then twirls the palm of his hand on the head of Derek's cock. Derek collapses on Stiles' shoulder, gripping them with his hands in a firm grip, and rolling his hips slowly to enhance his pleasure.

"You're so perfect, Derek," Stiles says in Derek's ear. "So perfect for me, god. You have no idea how many times I've thought about you, how many times I've caught myself daydreaming about getting my hands on you, stroking your cock, licking your lips, playing with your nipples."

Derek whines, actual, honest-to-god _whines_ , breath hitching against Stiles' neck. Stiles takes that as an invitation to speed up his strokes, and to prove what he said to Derek seconds ago was true, he uses his free hand to get a hold of one of Derek's nipples, squeezing the nub between his fingers.

With the added pleasure, Derek's body convulses around Stiles, and the moan that Derek lets out in that moment is something that Stiles wishes he could record to hear every time he masturbates.

"Yes, Derek, come on, moan for me," Stiles encourages. "I want to hear every little thing that comes out of your mouth. Do you have any idea how good you sound? How amazing you look so blissed out and moaning for me, moaning my name?"

"Stiles," Derek moans, eyes shut close as he from time to time bucks his up into Stiles' hand, seeking more pleasure.

"Yeah, Derek, there you go," Stiles praises him, twisting the nub of Derek's nipple with one of his hands and speeding up his strokes even more with the other.

It doesn't take long until Derek is left a sobbing mess on Stiles’ shoulder, not being able to control the moans, whines and mewls that escape his mouth. He seems to have long lost given up controlling his hips too, because they accompany Stiles’ strokes in firm, fast thrusts. And when Derek’s blunt nails sink into the flesh of Stiles’ shoulder and Derek lets out his loudest mewl yet, throwing his head back slightly and closing his eyes in pleasure, Stiles knows that he has just come.

Stiles keeps jerking Derek off, though with a much more lighter pace, riding his orgasm out, as Derek tries to even out his breathing that ghosts on Stiles’ skin and makes Stiles have goosebumps. During all of that, too, Stiles keeps whispering encouraging words to Derek, petting his hair with the hand that was once in his nipples, and when Derek is finally completely spent and too sensitive to have something touching his dick, he brings both his hands to Derek’s face and drags him into a kiss.

They kiss lazily, just enjoying each other's presence and too blissed out after their orgasm to do anything else. Derek's hands move soothing circles on Stiles' skin with such care and delicacy that Stiles' heart aches with something he's not sure what it is. Stiles tries to reciprocate the motion, carding his fingers through Derek's wet hair, massaging his scalp and eliciting sighs from him from the sensation that Stiles knows must feel good.

They stay there for what it feels like hours, just kissing and enjoying the feeling of being in such close proximity to each other. And when they finally break apart, it doesn't feel weird. It doesn't feel like they've done something they shouldn't; no, on the contrary, it feels like it's meant to be.


	5. Chapter 5

"These cookies are really good," Isaac says between a bite of his chocolate cookie, the bonfire that everyone is sitting around and roasting their marshmallows on casting a light on his face. "You outdone yourself this time, Derek, congratulations."

"Actually," Derek says, smiling. "Stiles was the one who baked the cookies this time."

Scott perks up at that. "Seriously? Stiles? Wow," he says, half confused half astonished. "The cookies really are good."

"That's because Derek is lying," Stiles intervenes. "Derek cooked, I helped. He's teaching me how to cook, and I'm learning little by little. He did all the work basically, I only measured the ingredients. He's the amazing cook here, not me."

"But you're the one that wanted to add more chocolate this time," Derek argues. "Something about that there's no such a thing as too much chocolate, if I recall." The corners of his mouth quirk upward, and he does an almost smile that Stiles knows it's because he's trying _not_ to smile. "And I did add more chocolate, you know? That's why they're so good."

"I wanted to add a whole extra cup of chocolate to the recipe, Derek," Stiles says, and he's trying not to smile too. "You added, what? 1/5 of it. You're the great cook here, not me. Come on."

"God, shut the hell up," Jackson says to them, grimacing. "You two are disgusting."

"I gotta agree with Jackson," Erica says, as she arranges her marshmallow, chocolate and Graham crackers to make her s’mores. "If you two were already bad when you couldn't stop fighting, now you're terrible. You're going to give me _cavities_. You two are ten thousand times worse than Boyd and I when we started dating."

"I actually think it's cute," Lydia says with ta thoughtful expression. "You know, they hated each other, now they're in love and happily dating. It’s poetic."

"Dating? God, guys, no," Stiles denies, trying to refrain them from their train of thought. "Derek and I, it's not like that, okay? Whatever you think Derek and I are doing, it's _definitely_ not what you think. We're just friends. Good friends, but just _friends_ nonetheless."

"Friends who fuck each other every day?" Erica asks, cocking an eyebrow. "Friends who sleep together in the same bed constantly? Friends who cook together, for each other? Friends who are _mates_?"

"It's not like that!" Stiles says desperately, throwing his hands in the air. "Just because we're mates, it doesn't mean anything." The others eye him skeptically. " _It doesn't mean anything._ We're going to break the stupid bond, okay? We're trying our best. We've been working on it for quite some time, long before we started fucking and just because we started banging it doesn't mean we're gonna suddenly embrace this stupid bond. We both find each other attractive, we're just helping the other relieve a bit of the tension. It's nothing out of this word. We're still not mates material."

"You're still breaking the bond?" Boyd asks from his place around the bonfire.

"Yep," Stiles says, popping the "p." "We've been working on it and we're sure we're going to find a way."

"And what does Derek think of that?" Isaac says, eyeing Derek nervously.

Everyone's attention turns to Derek, who had been silent throughout this whole conversation. Derek doesn't seem to be showing off any particular emotion, but then, that's usually Derek everyday expression. Stiles knows, now, that they've been living together for four months and in speakable terms for two, that when Derek wants, he can display the most amazing emotions, and that his face when he does so gets even more gorgeous.

"I want to break the bond," Derek says to everyone, a little bit more serious than Stiles thought was necessary.

Everyone stays quiet for a few seconds after that, eyes wide, as if someone had died in that exact moment and they couldn't believe what happened.

"Derek--" Erica tries to finally speak, and her voice is... worried, broken somehow.

"I want to break the bond," Derek repeats, harsher this time. "Now, let's change the subject. There's nothing else to talk about it. This is mine and Stiles' problem, and we're dealing with it. We don't want to hear anything you have to say, so fucking drop it."

And ouch, that was _harsh_. But Stiles appreciates it, because he doesn't want any of the betas butting in their personal lives, their bond, and telling them what they should or should not do or feel. Stiles likes what he has with Derek, it's comfortable, the sex is amazing and Derek is a wonderful person once you get to know him. But they're not in love, and they're not supposed to be mates in the first place. And he _isn't_ dating Derek because for that he would _want_ to date him in the first place, and that is something that he actually doesn't, as much as his friends try to convince him otherwise--even Scott, in the beginning, but he thankfully dropped that subject once he realized that Stiles wasn't going to change his mind.

After that though, the subject is forgotten, and the night flows a lot easier, even Derek seems to have a good time.

It's the night of the full moon, and the pack usually gathers together in a remote part of the Beacon Hills preserve to have a bonfire full of Derek's baked good and s’mores, and after everyone has eaten, they run together in the preserve. That part is something Derek always was sure to be part of their full moon nights, and Stiles knows is the traditional thing to do on a full moon, something he probably learned with his pack, his family, and has been doing since he was little. Nowadays, not a lot of packs do that anymore, only the more traditional ones with born wolves like Derek's, and Scott usually tags along.

Liam still can't come to their outings because he still is not able to control himself on a full moon. He spends the night on a facility on campus made for werecreatures who are still not in control to spend their full moons; a building full of rooms (more like cages, Stiles knows), that ensure that no werecreature can get out of there and hurt others. Their university too, is very supportive of werecreatures, leaving the days after the full moons always free of classes for them to deal with their full moon hangovers.

Around midnight, Derek, who had been talking to Boyd about something related to his pre-law major, joins Stiles and Scott who are talking animatedly about the new Avengers trailer. He only listens, but he seems interested, and when Scott leaves to get some soda and chocolate, he gets up from the log and extends his hand to Stiles, saying, "Come on, I need to show you something."

"Ooh," Stiles says excited, taking Derek's hand and following him deep into the woods. "What is it?"

"It's something I've been working on," Derek says secretively, stopping in a clearing in the woods not so far from where the rest of the pack is. "I wanted you to be the first one that I show you this."  
Stiles curiosity only grows, but then Derek starts... taking off his clothes?

"Derek?" Stiles says confused. "Derek, we can't have sex here. The rest of the pack will hear us, and then they'll tease us for _months_."

Derek rolls his eyes, shoving his pants down his ankles. "We're not having sex," he says simply.

Stiles is still confused, but he doesn't say a thing more. He does, though, appreciate Derek naked body in front of him, even if he's seen it practically every day for the past month, explored it with his tongue, with his hands...

"Okay," Derek says once he's completely naked. "Try not to squeal so much."

Stiles is about to ask what did he mean with that when Derek's body starts to change.

At first his face looks like it's going to change into a beta shift, ears getting longer and hair appearing on his face, but then his face starts transforming into a snout, and the ears get even more hairier, and suddenly Derek's legs are small and Derek's whole body is hairy. In no time Derek's transformed into a wolf--into a full on, black, fluffy wolf, with red eyes and sharp teeth.

"Oh my god!" Stiles squeals, just like Derek said he would. And he knows that if Derek could, he would totally roll his eyes right now.

Stiles drops to his knees in front of Derek, getting his hands on that black fur, carding his fingers through it.

"God, your fur, it's so soft," Stiles says, amazed, still petting it. "How did you do it? How did you change? Was it the bond?"

Derek, with his wolf head, nods.

"You look amazing," Stiles says, and he can help himself when he goes and plants a kiss on Derek's wolf head. "Seriously, you're beautiful."

He keeps petting Derek's fur, and when he moves his hands to Derek's belly, a whine escapes Derek's mouth. Stiles grins, and continues petting Derek's belly, which Derek seems to _love_ , because he flops himself on the forest ground, closing his eyes and letting his tongue poke outside.

"I knew you'd like belly rubs," Stiles says triumphantly, not stopping the motion of his hands. "No one says no to belly rubs, right? Ooh, Derek, you're such a good boy, splayed out for me while I rub your tummy."

Derek snarls, getting up from his position and surprising Stiles by pinning him down the ground with his front paws. And yeah, Derek is as strong as a wolf as he is as a man, but Stiles isn't a tiny bit worried about Derek's reaction, because he knows that Derek would never do anything to harm Stiles in any way.

"Ooh, big bad wolf," Stiles teases, bringing his hands to pet Derek's head, and he's all smiles. "You don't scare me anymore, little wolf."

Derek's only reaction is to start licking Stiles' face; all of it, his nose, his mouth, his ears. And even if man Derek doing that is everything Stiles wants, wolf Derek is just something that makes Stiles laugh and try to get away from.

"No, no, no," Stiles says, a little bit laughing a little bit desperate. "Stop."

"Stiles, are you okay?" comes a voice that is approaching them.

Stiles is about to reply when Erica and Boyd appear a few yards from them, and as soon as they set their eyes on Derek, well, wolf Derek, they start growling, instantaneously wolfing out.

"No, no, no, guys!" Stiles tries to warn.

But then Derek is stepping out from above Stiles and growling at them, showing them his red eyes and making them submit to them.

Erica and Boyd automatically stop growling, dropping their claws and turning back to human.

"Derek?" Erica says tentatively.

And then Derek is turning back into human form, slowly transforming limb by limb, losing his fur and growing until he's six feet tall.

"Yep," Derek says, and he totally has a cocky grin going on. And that which once would have made Stiles disgusted by him, only now makes fondness grow in his chest.

"Oh my god!" Erica squeals, just like Stiles did. "I can't believe you can do a full shift! And you didn't tell me! You told Stiles first, you bastard!" She swats him on the arm.

"Well, it was thanks to him that I can actually," Derek says. "The bond helps a lot. I've been able to do this for a couple of weeks, but I didn't want to tell anyone yet."

"You look badass," Boyd says, smiling.

"What is happening here?" Scott says, approaching them, with Lydia, Jackson and Isaac following them. "Oh god, why is Derek _naked_? Please don't tell me he and Stiles were having sex."

"If Derek is naked I'm not going in there," Jackson says from behind.

"There's something going on, Jackson, we're going to see what it is," Lydia reprimands him.

When everyone's in clearing, Derek not even being ashamed of being naked in front of his pack, Stiles stands in front of everyone and announces, "Derek can turn into a wolf!"

"Seriously?!" Scott asks, interested.

"Impressive," Lydia says, and she truly is impressed.

"Cool, now can Derek put on some clothes?" Jackson says, annoyed.

"Nope, Derek is going to show you all!" Stiles says excitedly. "Right, Derek?"

"Sure," Derek shrugs.

Stiles watches the shift with as much interest as he did before, paying more attention to the details. Once Derek is fully transformed, he wanders to where everyone is, and everyone starts petting his fur.

"Wow," Scott says amazed.

"He's really pretty," Lydia comments, getting her hand behind Derek's ear.

"He _loves_ belly rubs, guys, you gotta see it," Stiles says delighted.

They play with Derek for a bit, and Derek doesn't even sound grumpy about it. He actually seems to love the attention, and he doesn't even complain about the belly rubs again. After that, they all go running into the woods, with Derek still in his wolf form and Stiles running behind him. It's easily one of the best full moons of Stiles' life.

______________________________________________

That night Stiles goes looking for Derek on the apartment and finds him sitting on his bed, looking comfortable wearing only a pair of sweats and reading a big book. At the sight, Stiles gets worried that he might be studying, but when Stiles examines the cover of the book he realizes it's probably not for any of Derek's classes. Which is good, Stiles thinks happily, because it'll be easier to convince Derek to go to the party Stiles has been wanting to go for weeks, since Derek won't have the excuse that he has college work to do. Stiles has been tiptoeing around the subject for a few days, but Derek never gave a solid response, so now it’s time to ask him for real, and Stiles is already preparing himself to beg, knowing Derek like he knows him.

"Hey, Derek," Stiles says, approaching him, making Derek look up from his book. "So, I was thinking, the witch sorority is throwing a party in a few hours an--"

"No," Derek replies curtly, turning back to his book.

"But Derek!" Stiles says, sounding like a spoiled child. " _Please_ , I want to go to this party so bad. I haven't gone to a party since that last one when, you know," he says awkwardly, because they never really speak of That Night. The night that Derek knotted Stiles and got them tied together for the foreseeable future. "I really miss parties, Derek. I miss the booze, the music, the people. Please?" He gives Derek his best puppy dog eyes.

Derek sighs, putting down his book. "You know that I don't like parties, Stiles. We can buy alcohol and drink here, put on some music, I have the speakers and everything," he tries to reason.

"It's not the same," Stiles whines, sitting next to Derek on the bed. "You know it's not. And the whole pack will be there. Erica, Boyd, Scott, Isaac. Everyone. You can talk to them, you can drink yourself. And the party is really close from here too! We can walk there, it's only a 5 minute walk, you know pretty well that because I've listened to you complaining about the noise of that sorority countless times before when you were trying to write your thesis." He puts his hand on Derek's shoulder, looking him in the eyes with a pleading look. "Please, Derek, this means a lot to me. I love parties, and I know you've probably had enough of them already, since you're in grad school, but I want to have some fun with a few different people. Not that staying in the apartment with you isn't, though, just that... it's different, and I miss it."

Derek sighs again. "Fine," he finally concedes.

"Yes!" Stiles exclaims happily, grabbing Derek by the face and pressing their mouths together in a quick peck. "I _love_ you, man," he says happily, getting up from the bed and thinking about the clothes that he's gonna wear.

He takes a long shower and then dresses himself with good clothes, one of those that Lydia bought for him a few months ago, and even puts on some cologne for good measure. Then he goes find Derek in his room, and when he finds him, he's impressed, because Derek looks absolutely gorgeous, with black skinny jeans that hug his ass in the most sinful way, a deep V-neck that shows his chest hair that Stiles loves so much, plus a jacket that Stiles never knew he owned, but so stylish that makes Derek even hotter than he usually is, if that's even possible, since Stiles has seen Derek naked and moaning and writhing under him in the sheets countless times before.

Stiles whistles when he sees him, catching Derek's attention. "You look _hot_ , man. Trying to impress someone at the party? I won't be surprised if people end up in a fight to see who's going to leave with you tonight."

Derek scowls. "Won't I be leaving the party with you?"

"Yeah, but, it's not like we have a _choice_ , right?" Stiles says, motioning with his hands. "There'll be tons of hot people there, Derek, seize the opportunity. Not to mention the witches. I've heard rumors that the witches are very, very kinky. That would be an interesting experience." Stiles laughs. "But come on, let's go to the party, we're already running late."

And then Stiles is leaving, and Derek is following him without saying another word.

They walk in companionable silence, and the walk is not long, so it's not really a problem. It's never really a problem for them either, to be honest. Stiles has learned that Derek is not a man of many words, and he's not always willing to engage in deep conversation with you, but sometimes they just stay together in the same room doing their college work together, or sit pressed closed together on the couch watching TV, and they don't even have to talk to enjoy each other's presence. Other times, too, Stiles talks too much, and Derek only listens, but that's nice too, because Derek doesn't need to talk back other than "Yeah"s and nods for Stiles to know that he's listening and paying attention. And even then Stiles feels cared for, liked.

As they arrive at the party, they're automatically greeted by Scott, Erica, Boyd and Liam near the entrance.

"Hey, man!" Scott says wrapping Stiles into a hug.

"Hey, dude!" Stiles says, tapping him on the back, happy to see him.

"Wow, Derek looks hot today," Erica comments, whistling slightly, taking in Derek's appearance.

"I _know_ ," Stiles agrees enthusiastically. "He just needs to be a little less shy and talk to a few people. I bet he can have anyone in this party if he wants to."

Erica looks at him funny, but before she can say anything Scott is dragging them to the booze because he needs to fill his cup.

"I didn't think you'd come, because of, you know, Derek," Scott says to Stiles as they get their drinks.

"Oh I know, but I have my ways with Derek," Stiles says smiling, nudging Derek with his elbow. "Derek can't resist the Stilinski charm here, he'll always do whatever I say."

Derek, next to him, rolls his eyes. "More like I took pity on you," he says. "' _Oh, Derek, I_ need _to go to this party you don't understand! I can't bear not to go, I think I'll_ die _if I don't go!'_ " Derek says, trying to imitate Stiles way of speaking and moving his limbs in an uncoordinated manner.

Scott, Erica, Boyd and Liam laugh. Stiles only rolls his eyes and shoves Derek playfully.

"I did _not_ say that, Derek," Stiles says trying to sound offended but coming off more amused than anything.

"I don't doubt he did, though," Erica says, smiling.

Once they've all filled their cups, they go to the living room and engage in conversation. Derek seems to be enjoying himself too, even if he didn't want to come, and for that Stiles is glad. Because as much as he wanted to come more than anything, he also doesn't want to subject Derek to something he'll hate. But he knows that once Derek is with his pack, their pack, he has fun and it doesn't matter that there are too many people around him and loud music blasting in his ears.

By the one hour mark, Stiles is already tipsy, and he's having a great time. And then Liam, who's still a recent addition to the pack but is slowly gaining his pace within it, pushes him to the side and says, "So, Stiles. I gotta introduce you to someone."

"Ooh, who is it?" Stiles says, excited.

"It's a friend of mine," Liam explains. "He's a freshman and a witch. He's seen you around campus and on my Facebook before and he thinks you're hot, or well, absurdly hot as he likes to tell me in vivid details. And he begged for me to introduce you two tonight."

"You're trying to hook me up with a freshmen, Liam?" Stiles says amused.

Liam rolls his eyes. "I swear he's hot, okay?" Liam says, looking around the room, probably looking for his friend, who he seems to find because then he's saying, "Look, there he is! He's alone, we should go talk to him now."

Stiles tracks Liam's eyes and he finds Liam's friend: it's clearly a freshman, but he _is_ hot. Dark skinned, seeming to have amazing muscle definition beneath that henley, cute eyes, and if he's into Stiles, why not?

"Does he know about, you know, Derek?" Stiles has to ask.

"Yeah," Liam nods. "But I told him you're trying to break the bond. He agrees with you, by the way, that this bond thing is utter bullshit. Something about ancient magic not being good for anyone. I don't know, talk to him and he'll explain, he's a witch, you know how those are."

"I think I like him already," Stiles says, smiling broadly.

Stiles and Liam approach Liam's friend then, and as soon as he sets his eyes on Stiles, he smiles broadly, albeit a bit nervously.

"Hey, man," Liam says, greeting his friend with a hug.

"Hey, Liam," his friend replies, reciprocating the hug but at the same time not getting his eyes off Stiles.

"So you wanted me to introduce you to my friend, right?" Liam says, and his friend nods avidly. "This is Stiles," he says motioning to Stiles' direction. "And Stiles, this is my friend Mason."

Stiles extends his hand, which Mason takes, shaking it. "It's a pleasure to meet you," Mason says easily.

"Likewise," Stiles says, smiling at him.

"Well, since you know each other now," Liam says, clasping his hands together. "I'll leave you to it. There's this witch in my Sociology class that I'm dying to meet here. See you later, guys!"

And then he walks away, leaving Stiles and Mason on their own.

"So, what's your major?" Stiles starts with the most obvious question, because that's usually the conversation starter of everyone in an university.

"Wildlife Ecology," Mason replies, a little bit unsure.

Stiles snorts. "And you're a witch? Could you be more stereotypical?"

Mason chuckles. "Yes, I know, but it's not always like that, okay? I know for a fact that there are some witches here in this sorority that are studying engineering."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe," Stiles says, smiling.

"And well, I know you're a spark, and if I'm going to follow the stereotype, I’m going to say that your major is something to do with law enforcement," Mason says teasingly.

"Oh, come on, that's not even a stereotype!" Stiles tries to defend himself.

"It is, have you never noticed how most of the sparks on campus are Criminal Justice majors?" Mason says cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, okay, I'll grant you that," Stiles concedes. "And yes, I'm a Criminal Justice major. But not because I'm a spark, okay? That was my designed major way before I found out about my powers. My dad is the sheriff of Beacon Hills, and I guess I'm one of those people whose dream career as a child stays the same when you grow up."

"You're Sheriff Stilinski's son?" Mason's says, eyes wide.

"Yep, that's me," Stiles says proudly. "Don't tell me you've had to deal with my dad because you did something illegal."

Mason blushes at that. "Well, uh, let's just say that..." He pauses, blush deepening. "I had a boyfriend and we were parked on the preserve one night when your father dropped by."

"Oh my god," Stiles laughs.

"Yeah, it wasn't pretty," Mason says, shaking his head. "Just thinking about that makes me shudder. My mom grounded me for a month, it was terrible. And I could never forget the Sheriff's name after that. Stilinski. Which, by the way, what sort of name is Stiles Stilinski?"

Stiles cringes. "That's because that's not my name. That's a nickname. My name, though, is _terrible_. Polish and unpronounceable and I still complain to my dad all the time because he had the brilliant idea of naming me after my mom's father. It was a traumatizing childhood for me."

"Polish, you say?" Mason perks up. "I know Polish. I bet I can pronounce your name."

"Really?" Stiles says surprised. "You actually know Polish?"

"Some witches do. We have quite a lot books with spells and information about our kin in Polish. It's just easier for us to learn the language," Mason explains. "But come on, tell me your name."

"Well, it's..." Stiles says uncertain, because he never tells his name to anyone. But decides that, why not? It's just a name, and the flirting they have going on is a lot of fun to Stiles. "Don't laugh at me, because it's really terrible. But... My name is Krzesisław," he says it with perfect pronunciation, because well, it's his name after all.

"Krzesisław," Mason repeats, and to Stiles' surprise, it _is_ also with perfect pronunciation. "A tad old fashioned, but that's because it was your grandfather's name. I like it, actually, it's pretty cool. Original. Sexy. Krzesisław," he repeats, working the name on his tongue.

And it's really nice to hear someone say his name like that, other than his mom and dad. It had never happened before to Stiles in his life.

"Well, wow, you really _do_ know Polish," Stiles says, pleasantly surprised. "I had never heard anyone but my mom and dad say my name with such clear pronunciation."

Mason smiles, and then takes a step closer, bringing his hand to Stiles elbow and leaning in until his mouth is close to Stiles' ear. "Do you want to know what's like to have someone moan your real name in your ear as they fuck into you?"

And wow, that _is_ forward, but Stiles isn't complaining. Fuck, he _likes_ it. A lot. And he thinks that Mason is definitely good at this.

"I think I would definitely like that," Stiles replies, suddenly out of breath.

But then suddenly Stiles is being yanked back by his jacket, far away from Mason, who gives a step back startled. Stiles stumbles backwards, trying to find his balance, until he finds Derek is next to him, with a murderous glare on his face directed towards Mason. And Stiles doesn't need to think twice to know exactly what happened.

"Derek, what the fuck?!" Stiles exclaims, gesturing violently with his hands.

"We're going home," Derek states harshly, hands clenched into fists on both his sides.

"We're _not_ going home," Stiles says decisively, anchoring his feet on the floor because he doesn't intend on leaving that party for the next four hours. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Derek? We just got here two hours ago! I was having fun, you were having fun too because I saw you with the pack not only 10 minutes ago! What is happening to you?"

"I don't care if you're having fun," Derek grits out. "I'm leaving. If you want to stay and die, that's your problem."

And then he turns his back and heads for the door.

"Derek!" Stiles calls for him. "Derek, you'll die too, you asshole!" He looks around hopelessly, and all his friends seem to be next to him, not knowing what to do. "Derek!" he tries to call out one more time.

He has no other choice but to follow Derek. He dodges all the people in the room and heads for the door, running, and in the streets he finds Derek, walking towards his apartment complex in a quick pace.

Stiles catches with him quickly, afraid of the sudden separation they put between them. It was bad enough the first time, knowing that they could die, and Stiles isn't willing to leave Derek's side just because Derek's suddenly back to his old self.

Stiles has no idea what the hell happened to Derek, and what made Derek suddenly be an asshole to Stiles when they were being so nice and friendly to each other before that. They were doing so well, their time alone was something that Stiles looked forward to, Stiles now genuinely enjoyed spending his time with Derek. And suddenly Derek is treating Stiles as badly as he did before, before all the things they've been through, before they learned to like and see the good things in each other. It hurts, it hurts a lot, but it hurts more because Stiles has no idea what happened for Derek to suddenly be treating him like this.

"What the fuck, Derek?" Stiles exclaims once he catches up with him. "What happened there? Why are you suddenly treating me like you hate me all over again? I didn't do anything to you! I don't deserve this!"

Derek doesn't say anything, he only walks faster, almost running, and Stiles has to quick his pace again to accompany him.

"Are you not going to say anything?!" Stiles exclaims angrily.

Derek turns to him angrily then, shooting him a ferocious glare. "Why do you _care_ , Stiles, huh?" he spits, literally spits, with venom in his voice, and then starts walking again, this time faster.

"What do you mean why do I care?!" Stiles shouts behind him. "When did I gave you the impression that I didn't care, you fucking asshole?! I care! I care about you! With whom else would I watch boring Animal Planet documentaries with? For whom else would I wake up at six am to run miles and miles into the woods every day because it's something you like? I care a lot about you!"

They stop in front of Derek's apartment's door, breath ragged from running all the way there.

"You were _rubbing_ yourself on that witch guy," Derek says with disgust. "I could smell his interest in you from across the room. And you know what else? You were interested in him too. What makes you think that you'd be able to bring him to my apartment? And do I need to remind you this is _my_ apartment, Stiles? Not yours, not ours, but _mine._ "

"Is this what this is about?" Stiles says angrily. "Your apartment? Your fucking _apartment_? I thought we were past this, Derek. But apparently you're still an egotistical prick. I thought you liked me, but oh no, obviously not, what was I thinking? That I could have a healthy relationship with Derek H--"

Stiles' speech is cut by Derek crowding Stiles' against the door of his apartment and pressing their mouths close together in a hungry kiss.

Stiles wants to protest at Derek's action, because how dare he think that he can solve their problem by simply ending things with a kiss? Stiles is angry about Derek's behavior, and highly hurt about it too, because he thought Derek was over being an asshole to him, that _they_ were over being assholes to each other. But before he can think of doing anything else, Derek's mouth is opening and seeking Stiles' tongue with his own, his whole body pressing Stiles against the door, pinning him to it and radiating an amazingly comforting heat. Stiles can't help himself when he melts into the kiss, anger dissipating from his body in fast waves.

In the end, Derek will always be one of Stiles' weak points. Since the beginning, Derek was always the one who could always elicit the most vivid responses from Stiles, even though most of them were always negative in the past. That changed though, obviously, but it didn't change how Derek could toy with Stiles' emotions like no one else.

Stiles moans into the kiss, curling one of his hands on Derek's hips and lacing the other on Derek's hair, bringing his face even closer. They kiss desperately, with as much heat as if they'd never be able to get enough of each other, even after hours and hours spent exploring each other's bodies. They also cling together, and when Derek's hands haul Stiles' body up, Stiles doesn't waste his time in lacing his legs around Derek's waist. At the motion, Stiles can't help but moan, because his half-hard cock got in a lot more contact with Derek's, causing an amazing friction to both of them. And Derek, too, gives a vocal response to the motion, whimpering and deciding then to take Stiles' bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling the flesh.

"We should, ah, go inside," Stiles pants, now full on rutting against Derek and with his dick finally getting totally hard. "To a bed."

"Yeah," Derek says, nodding.

Stiles thinks Derek will drop Stiles for them to walk inside, but he realizes he underestimated his werewolf strength, because quickly Derek is only supporting Stiles weight with one hand and opening the door, ushering them inside. He practically runs for the bed, walking in a quick pace, and on the way to his room he starts kissing Stiles again, but surprisingly this time with even more hunger.

Derek drops Stiles on his bed with no finesse, because he clearly is as eager as Stiles to get things going, and in no time after that he starts discarding their clothes in a velocity that Stiles never knew he had. As soon as they’re both naked Derek doesn't waste his time in crawling on top of Stiles, bringing both their now fully erect cocks together and giving them a long stroke, at the same time that he wraps both their mouths in a kiss. They both moan at that against their mouths, the skin-on-skin contact making Stiles close his eyes and enjoy the sensation.

Without moving his hand from their dicks, Derek breaks the kiss, moving his mouth to Stiles' neck. He kisses and licks the pale skin avidly, exploring it all with his mouth and tongue. That also only seems to be to prepare Stiles for what he does next: suck a giant bruise around the moles of Stiles’ skin, sucking so hard that Stiles almost feels pain from it. Stiles writhes in the sheets, grasping them with his hands, knuckles turning white and mouth opening in a round "o."

Derek seems to be content with that one bruise already, because then he's already moving downwards, trailing kisses from Stiles' neck to down his chest. He stops on Stiles' left nipple, using his tongue to tentatively twirl around Stiles' nub. At that, Stiles' breath hitches, and when Derek wraps his mouth around the nub and sucks with intention, while a hand travels to Stiles’ left nipple, squeezing it hard with his fingers, Stiles' eyes fly open as he gives a desperate shout. Derek rolls his tongue around and around the nub of Stiles’ nipple, and with his teeth picks at it, biting it softly at first, but as Stiles mewls, hands clenching and toes curling, he bites it more strongly, and Stiles swears he can see stars.

Every time they have sex, every time Derek has his way with Stiles, Stiles can't help but be blown away by how Derek always knows exactly what to do to elicit the most amazing responses from him, to make him quiver and moan as loudly as he can, never seeming to get enough of what Derek has to offer. Stiles doesn't think he will ever find someone who will fuck him as good and hard as Derek does, someone who will kiss him as dirtily as Derek does, someone who will always know exactly what he needs for, by the end of it all, to be left so spent and thoroughly fucked he can't do anything but sleep. It amazes him, and sometimes Stiles wishes he could have Derek for himself for an eternity.

"F-fuck, Derek," Stiles moans. "You're so much better-- so much-- better. It's never like this with anyone, _God_."

Stiles, not even having thought what he was saying that much, just letting his mouth run wild, doesn't think his words would have that much repercussion. But it's the wrong thing to say, because Derek stops what he had been doing and hauls himself up, looking at Stiles with a furious expression.

"Don't you dare talk about anyone else," he hisses, and he squeezes Stiles' arm with his hand. "You're here with me. And _only_ me, do you understand?"

"T-there's no one else, Derek," Stiles is quick to deny, shaking his head desperately. "Just you! I swear!"

"If there's someone else or not," Derek growls, "Today I'm gonna fuck you so hard and good you're gonna know that you're mine." He smirks devilishly, eyes flashing red for a second. "I'm going to pin you to this bed with my hands," and then he goes and wraps his hands around Stiles' wrists, bringing them over Stiles' head and pinning them there, "mark your whole body so everyone knows that I fucked you, that I fucking _own_ you," and then he goes and dips his head on Stiles' neck, sucking a generous bruise there that Stiles knows will be there for days. And fuck, Stiles can't help but moan at that, especially because he remembers what Derek said back that day in the lake, about marking Stiles, and it all makes Stiles' dick give a twitch in interest. "And then I'm going to fuck you, fuck you so hard that you won't be able to even hear yourself moan from how loud the noise our bodies colliding together will be. And _then_ I'm going to knot you, breed your sweet ass, fill you up with my come, to let _everyone _know that you're claimed, that I knotted you, that I breeded you. Because you're _mine_ , do you understand?"__

__And god, Stiles has always loved Derek's dirty talk. Once Derek opens his mouth to talk in bed, Stiles is automatically gushing pre-come out of his slit, begging to be fucked, letting Derek do whatever he wants to him. And what struck to him about everything that Derek said moments ago is that he said he’s going to _knot_ Stiles. Even if they've been fucking almost daily for a few good weeks, a thing they haven't been doing is knotting. At all. They've talked about it during sex, mostly Derek telling Stiles he's dying to knot him, but in the end, he never really does, which Stiles thinks it has to do with the fact that knotting is a personal thing, only meant to do with someone you're dating or you're serious about, not, you know, just your side fuck. But now Derek is going to _knot_ him, for real, and Stiles feels excitement running through his veins._ _

__Stiles, still dazed, can't do anything but nod helplessly at Derek. "Yeah-- fuck, yeah," he says breathlessly._ _

__Without saying a word, Derek then manhandles Stiles until he’s lying on his stomach, and then moves to get the the lube. Quickly, Stiles feels Derek pressing a slick digit against his entrance, but the motion isn't tender of cautious. Stiles feels the familiar stretch as Derek’s finger slides into him fast, until Stiles’ rim is touching his knuckles. Stiles hears himself groan as Derek’s finger retreats just to slide inside again, building up a quick, brutal pace._ _

__Stiles doesn't even have time to breathe before Derek adds the second finger, and right after that he already starts scissoring them inside Stiles, the digits brushing against Stiles’ prostate, which has Stiles shouting and biting the pillow as he shoves his ass further up into Derek’s touch. The fingers’ motion are fast, precise and hard; they continue pushing inside only to withdraw, brushing against Stiles’ prostate continuously until not too long, because apparently Derek isn't one with much patience, they're leaving Stiles' ass and Derek is manhandling Stiles again back to his original position.  
Derek doesn't waste his time in quickly aligning himself against Stiles' entrance, and the first thrust comes immediately: Derek's cock enters Stiles' ass with in a fast jab and leaves it also instantly after, Derek seeming not to care about having Stiles get accustomed to having his dick inside himself and already building a fast pace of thrusts. And true to his words, as he continues the thrusts, Derek wraps his hand around Stiles wrists again, pinning them up Stiles' head, which makes Stiles feel even more aroused, because somehow the idea that he can't really escape from Derek's hands turns him on more than it should._ _

__Derek's pace grows stronger as he pistons himself in and out of Stiles' body, and Stiles gives him all the encouragement in the world with the noises that leave his throat. And like Derek said, the loud noises from their bodies hitting together with the thrusts fill the room, almost muffling the moans that come out from both of their mouths. Along the way, too, Derek decides to lower his body, and with that new position his dick starts hitting Stiles' prostate continuously. Stiles shouts, eyes flying open in shock, and as the thrusts go on he's left keening on the bed, not being able to control the moans that leave his mouth every time that Derek hits his sweet spot._ _

__At Stiles' enthusiastic response, Derek only seems to get even more fervent, speeding his thrusts even more. He also does something that causes Stiles to mewl loudly: he buries his face in the crook of Stiles' neck and bites the flesh with his blunt teeth, and not at all gently. Pain laces through Stiles' body, and he can't help when his toes curls and his hands close into fists, nails digging in his palms, and his knuckles turn white from how strong is his grip. And the best thing of it all, too, Stiles admits, is knowing that Derek was serious about marking Stiles, and that this bite will definitely leave an imprint on his skin for days, even weeks, a giant bruise that will let everyone know that he's been claimed by a werewolf._ _

__It doesn't take long for Stiles to feel it: Derek's knot. Quickly, the base of Derek's cock starts swelling, and with each and every thrust it becomes harder for Derek's dick to get inside Stiles. Every dig of Derek's cock, Stiles' rim gets even more stretched, abused, and Stiles admits that he _loves_ it, loves the sensation of fullness that overcomes him, and how Derek's knot presses on all Stiles' right places._ _

__"Fuck, Derek," Stiles breathes, not even being able to control what comes out of his mouth. "Your knot-- _God_."_ _

__Derek growls, losing control as his eyes flash red. "Say you're mine," he demands, tightening the grip on Stiles' wrists and giving a particularly strong thrust. "Say it."_ _

__"I'm yours," Stiles moans with no hesitation. "Fuck, Derek, I'm yours, okay? Only yours."_ _

__And then Derek is biting the other side of Stiles' neck and coming inside Stiles, burying his knot deep inside him until he's not able to take it out. He rides his orgasm out by rolling his hips in circles inside Stiles, and the pain of the bite and the sensation of the knot and Derek's come filling him up is enough to drive Stiles on edge, too. Stiles comes with a shout in Derek's ear, convulsing on the bed as come spill on his stomach, tainting both their flesh._ _

__They stay tied together, Derek licking the place where he bit Stiles with a care that makes Stiles' heart swell as they both try to get their breaths evened out._ _

__Stiles isn't very sure what exactly happened moments ago. And he also isn't in his right mind to think too much about it, because his mind is clouded with his post-orgasm bliss and he's thoroughly tired and spent, with no energy to do anything but lie down in bed and be lulled into sleep with the feeling of Derek's body against his own._ _

____

_____________________________________________________

Weirdly, Stiles doesn't even stop to think about events of that night with Derek other than to remember the amazing sex they had together--he admits he daydreams way too much about Derek's cock swelling inside him and Derek claiming him on both sides of his neck. It's not like he doesn't vaguely think that Derek's behavior was a tad weird that night, but not only there were more important things to leave an impression in Stiles' mind, like Derek's cock ramming into him and god, Derek's _knot_ , Stiles has to emphasize it, but also shortly after that memorable night Stiles is getting swamped with exams he has to study for.

And even between the countless exams, and the hours he has to spend studying, Stiles still manages to find time to drag Derek to his family's vault. And he actually nearly has to _drag_ Derek, who seems to be reluctant to go there for some reason. Stiles understands that he also has exams to study for, but they _want_ this, don't they? They want to break the bond. But Stiles doesn't let his doubts linger too much, especially because Derek eventually caves in and drives with Stiles to Beacon Hills, and they spend hours reading through Derek's family's book collection. And even after Derek comments a few times how they should probably give up researching, because they probably won't get anywhere, especially because they're running out of books and there are only a few books they haven't read yet, Stiles doesn't think too much of it. Especially because, in the end, Derek is wrong: they find something. _Stiles_ finds something.

It's a seemingly normal Saturday morning and they're in the Hale vault researching, because Stiles has started waking up at the crack of down every weekend just to research, which for him that's admirable. He's reading a heavy and dusty book on emissaries, and Stiles gathers that not only by the state of the book, which is almost falling to pieces, but by the English it is written in Stiles thinks it must have been written in the sixteenth century or so. Stiles is impressed with how many spells and information he finds there, too, and then when he's reading a chapter on blood spells he finds it: a spell to break the bond.

"Derek!" Stiles exclaims, getting up from the floor and trotting down to where Derek is sitting. Derek looks at him startled. "I found it! I did it! I found a way to break the bond!"

"You found it?" Derek says, eyes wide.

"I did!" Stiles exclaims, smiling wide, and then giving a little giggle. "Oh, man, _finally_!"

"Uh, what does it say?" Derek asks, with no excitement in his tone

Stiles doesn't even pay attention to Derek's lack of buoyancy, because he's so thrilled about his discovery, so fucking happy that he'll finally get rid of the bond. He'll go to his apartment. To his bed. To Scott. He'll have his life again. God.

"It's a spell for druids, well, emissaries," Stiles explains, sitting down next to Derek. "It was designed in case two werewolves from rival packs developed a mate bond, so the emissary breaks the spell to avoid any conflict. The spell is supposed to be very complicated, though, even though the physical aspect of it isn't."

"What's the physical aspect of it?" Derek says, cocking an eyebrow.

"Well," Stiles says, trying to find a better way to put this but not coming up with anything. "This is blood magic. We have to use our blood. Usually, we just cut the palms of our hands, but even then the cut has to be very deep, enough to bleed a lot. And because you're a werewolf and you heal, you have to cut your hand with a rare species of wolfsbane, the Yellow Monkswood, which doesn't kill you but slows down your healing process. Once we're bleeding, we just have to connect our palms together and let the druid do their magic."

"You want me to willingly cut myself with wolfsbane?" Derek says incredulously.

Stiles rolls his eyes, exasperated. "It's not going to kill you!" He grabs Derek's hands, lacing their fingers together and looking him in the eye. "We finally found it, Derek. Our way to freedom. This is what we've been searching for the past four, almost five months. I know we don't hate each other anymore, and I'm really glad that we don't, because your friendship means a lot to me and I'm really glad we could get past our animosity for each other. Just." He pauses, sighing. "We're not mates material. You know that very well. We get well together, we fuck, but you know, _mates_? That's kinda absurd. I barely liked you two months ago. And I know you feel the same, which is why we're going over to the animal clinic right now, because I know that Deaton has patients on Saturday mornings. And we're going to talk to him and see if he can perform this magic. Deal?"

Derek nods, tense. "Yeah," he says. Then, relaxing and with a softer tone, "Yeah, come on. Let's go." Then he's getting up from the vault's floor and leading them outside, to the car.

The drive to the animal clinic is silent, but Stiles is vibrating on his seat, anxious to hear what Deaton has to say. When they get there, Stiles all but bounces out of the car, and thankfully when they get inside, Deaton is free to talk to them.

"Derek, Stiles," Deaton greets them from behind the balcony. "What brings you two here?"

"We found a way to break the bond," Stiles says, going straight to the point.

"Oh, really?" Deaton says, surprised. "How?"

"We found a book, it's an emissary one," Stiles explains, brandishing the book in Deaton's direction. "It's a spell. It's supposed to be complicated. We wanted to ask if you knew how to do it, and if you could do it for us."

"Let me see," Deaton says, grabbing the book from Stiles' hands.

He reads the bookmarked page slowly, paying close attention to the details of the spell, like Stiles knows that he would. But when he's done, Stiles knows that he doesn't exactly has good news for them.

"Well, this truly is complicated magic," Deaton says, putting the book down. "I can't do it. It's way too much for me. Sorry." He looks at them apologetically, and Stiles' shoulders sag. But then he amends, "But I think I know someone who can help you."

"Really?" Stiles looks up, hopeful.

"Yeah," Deaton says, nodding, getting a phone book from the shelf. "It's an old friend of mine. Her name is Naira, and she was the emissary for the most numerous pack of California back in the 60's. They were all wiped out by hunters, sadly, but she survived. She's the most powerful druid I know, and I'm pretty sure she'll be able to perform this spell for you two. She lives in Tulelake, a small town in northern California by the border of Oregon, so you'd have to make a trip up there. "

"That would be wonderful, Deaton," Stiles says, nodding and smiling big at him. "Thank you."

Deaton gives them Naira's phone number, which Stiles quickly saves on his phone, and tells them to tell her that they're friends with him, that that way she'll definitely help them out.

And when Stiles and Derek are ready to leave, Deaton turns to them and says, "Oh, by the way, I have the Yellow Monkswood." He grabs a small jar from the shelf, and Stiles finds inside it the yellow flower. "You can have it."

"Thank you so much," Stiles says truthfully, taking the jar from Deaton's hands.

"Thank you, Deaton," Derek says too, speaking for the first time he got there.

"You're welcome." Deaton smiles small. "I just hope you know exactly what you're doing. Once you get rid of a mate bond, you can't ever get it back."

"That won't be a problem," Stiles dismisses, waving his hand. "Right, Derek?"

"Yeah," Derek says, short.

__________________________________________

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Scott asks Stiles with a worried expression on his face, supporting his weight on Stiles' jeep, where Derek is already seated, just waiting for Stiles for them to go on their trip.

They called Naira right after leaving Deaton, and as soon as they told her that they were friends with the veterinarian, she instantly warmed up to them. Apparently, she loved Deaton, and when they asked her about the spell, if she could do it, she quickly became interested and assured them that she could, and that they could drop by her house next weekend to perform the magic. Which worked perfectly for Stiles, because he would be able to sort their problem, which was the mate bond that they got themselves into, as soon as possible. They scheduled the trip quickly, and even though Stiles had been happy about the turns of the events, he admits that the atmosphere of the house, of Derek’s apartment, had been a bit gloomy that week.

Stiles looks over at Derek in the passenger seat, who's listening to some music on his iPod to give Stiles and Scott some space and let them talk about whatever they want to as Scott gives Stiles his goodbyes before Stiles has to go on their trip to northern California.

"Yeah," Stiles says, nodding. "I'm sure."

"Come on, Stiles," Scott presses. "You like him, I know you do. You two are practically dating already. You live together. You cook together. You _sleep_ together. You fuck. And I know that Derek even pays for everything every time you two go out."

"That's because Derek's loaded, Scott," Stiles tries to counter. "I'm a college student, I'm in _debt_. Derek has a fortune from his millionaire dead family."

"Whatever," Scott says, rolling his eyes. "What I mean is, you like him. And he likes you too, Stiles, as much as you're trying not to see this."

"It's just that," Stiles struggles with his words. "I never wanted this, you know? I hated Derek, I never wanted this bond to start with. I like Derek alright, he's a good friend, an awesome lay, but even then as much as you're trying to tell me, I don't love him or anything like that." Scott looks at him skeptically and Stiles huffs. "Seriously, Scott. I've only just started _not_ hating him, how am I going to love him already?"

"Quit being so goddamn stubborn, Stiles," Scott says, shaking Stiles' body with his hands. "This bond is doing wonderful things for you two. Your relationship with each other brought a whole new mood for you two, Derek is a whole different person, and you too. You’re the happiest I’ve ever seen you, and all because of _Derek_. Not to mention that Derek can do a full shift because of this bond now, and your magic is even more powerful, which I know because I've heard of the spells you're being able to perform when you're training with Derek."

"It's not worth it, okay?" Stiles says, starting to get a little irritated. "I don't want this magic mate bond with Derek. I don't love Derek. I don't, okay? I'm going to do this, and Derek wants to do this too. We're both on the same page and it doesn't matter what you or anyone has to say on the matter."

Scott snorts.

"What?" Stiles asks, narrowing his eyes.

"'Derek wants to break the bond.' Come on, seriously, Stiles, are you that blind?" Scott says incredulously.

"Derek _wants_ to break the bond, okay?" Stiles says firmly, but doubt blossoms in his chest at that moment. What if Derek _doesn’t_ want to break the bond? But that would be just stupid, wouldn’t it? "But whatever,” Stiles says, waving his hand and shrugging those thoughts away, “I'm doing this, Scott, whether you like it or not."

"Fine," Scott says, but he doesn't sound happy about this at all. "But at least be careful on the road. There's a darach on the run here in California and whoever that is they're sacrificing people."

"Okay, sure," Stiles shrugs. "No problem. But I mean, Derek is an alpha, and I'm a spark. It won't be any problem."

"Stiles," Scott says disapprovingly. "Be careful."

"Fine, mom." Stiles rolls his eyes.

Scott gives Stiles a smile at that then, and then he's wrapping Stiles in a tight hug.

"I just hope you don't regret your decision in the future," Scott says sincerely.

 _I hope so too_ , Stiles thinks but doesn't say, just gives his goodbyes to Scott and gets inside the car.

Stiles drives in utter silence with Derek by his side, just paying attention on the road. Derek seems to be content with just getting distracted with his iPod, only listening to his music with one earbud on, and around one hour into the road, he falls asleep on the passenger seat, letting out little sighs as he sleeps that almost turn into snores. It's adorable, Stiles thinks as he drives. Stiles loves watching Derek asleep, and has watched him sleep when they slept in the same bed together, usually when Derek fell asleep before than him, especially because Derek is always the first one to rise. Derek always looks really peaceful and beautiful when he sleeps, and Stiles appreciates that, so much that he always gets the urge to snap a picture to keep this moment stored forever.

Around 3 hours later, Derek wakes up, fluttering his eyelashes and looking sleep-confused. He yawns, stretching himself on his seat. It's already dark outside, and Derek's face is only illuminated by the lights of the other cars that drive next to the Jeep on the road.

"Hey," Derek says, voice still filled with sleep.

"Hey," Stiles replies, smiling softly. "Sleep good?"

"Yeah," Derek says nodding, yawning again. "But I think I need to take a piss. Do you think you can pull over the car for a couple of minutes? It'll be fast."

"Sure," Stiles says, starting to pull over the car on the roadside.

Derek opens his door quickly, leaving the car and entering the woods to pee.

It doesn't take too long before Stiles feels it, though: pain, a lacing pain crossing through his chest. He gasps for air, gripping the steering wheel so strongly that his knuckles turn white. The pain is so strong that it clouds his vision, and he can barely think as the waves hit him and leave him whimpering inside the car.

When he comes back to himself, desperation hits him. He's out of the car in no time, gripping the door of the Jeep with trembling hands and almost falling face front in the pavement when he jumps out of it as fast as he can. Because Stiles knows there's only one way that Stiles would have felt that pain, and that is if _Derek_ felt it. And if Derek felt that much pain, it means that he's in danger, and that thought makes Stiles desperate, because he can't bear to think that anything may happen to Derek, that anything will happen to Derek's life.

Stiles rounds a few trees when he finds it: Derek sprawled on the forest ground, bleeding from a wound on his chest, eyes flashing red and growling. Growling at a _thing_. It's a person, but it definitely doesn't look like one. It's disfigured, white skin full of scars with no hair in their head whatsoever, body covered in black clothes that look more like rags than anything. Stiles knows then, that they found the darach that had been assaulting California, because that's obviously definitely their luck.

Before Stiles has to think of anything else, he adjusts his stances, sinking his feet on the ground and raising his head.

" _Funestum est paralysi_!" Stiles shouts desperately, imagining the darach falling to the ground, paralyzed, unable to move, away from Derek. Especially then, he imagines the poison spreading through the darach's body, killing them slowly, because if Derek does die because of them, they _do_ deserve to die. Stiles puts all the belief and all the emotion he can muster in his spell, all the desperation, all the-- fuck, he doesn't even _know_ what's this feeling, but he only knows that he can't bear to think that Derek will die in front of him, by the hands of this monster, and Stiles will be here unable to do anything.

And then--

It works. The darach's eyes fall open, in shock, and they fall to the ground in a heavy thump, screeching in pain.

Stiles' body flood with relief for a few moments, but then he looks at Derek, who's looking at him with wide eyes, but still looking like he's in pain, and Stiles notices how Derek's wound is not healing, and he instantly gets preoccupied that Derek in the end might not make it after all.

He runs to Derek's direction, falling to the ground next to him.

"Derek, Derek," Stiles says desperate, touching Derek's face with delicate hands. "Are you okay? Fuck-- What happened?"

"Wolfsbane," Derek chokes out.

"Okay," Stiles tries to breathe. "Okay. I think I know a spell to heal wolfsbane wounds. I just-- fuck, Derek, I don't know if I can do it, it's supposed to be too advanced. I can't." And he feels tears welling in his eyes. He sobs. "I can't let you die."

"You can do it," Derek says weakly, and then he starts coughing blood. "I know you can."

"Okay," Stiles says, taking a deep breath. "Okay. I can do it. I can. Come on, Stiles."

As Stiles says the spell, he imagines Derek healing, getting better from this. He imagines Derek getting up from this forest floor and walking away from this, and then he starts imagining them kissing, holding each other. He lets his imagination run: he imagines Derek waking up next to him every day, making coffee and breakfast for him every day, just like Stiles likes it because he always does. He imagines Derek teaching Stiles all his mom's recipes, and then they having sex in the middle of the kitchen while they're still dirty with flour and butter. He imagines he and Derek together, and he realizes that being so close to losing Derek, losing Derek _forever_ , makes him realize that he doesn't ever want Derek lose Derek, in any way or form. He _wants_ Derek, he sees it now, but he was too stubborn to realize. He actually _loves_ Derek, he realizes as tears stroll down his face and Derek coughs even more blood.

But then the spell starts working. Derek's wound starts glowing a deep gold, and the hole there was in his chest, that wasn't healing due to the wolfsbane, starts stitching itself back together slowly.

"Oh, thank god," Stiles says, and then he leans in and kisses Derek desperately.

He doesn't even care about the blood, per se, he only knows that he needs to kiss Derek stupid right now. He needs to be close to him, he needs to know that Derek is okay, that Derek is _alive_. Stiles clings to him as if his life depends on it, and Derek kisses Stiles back with as much enthusiasm as Stiles.

"Derek, fuck, Derek," Stiles says as they break the kiss, cleaning the tears from his face. "I love you, I just. I don't know what took me so long to realize this, but I love you. I love you so much. I don't want to break the bond. I don't--" He stops, taking a deep breath. "I want to spend the rest of my days with you. I was so stupid, Derek, it took me so long to realize this. I--" He leans in and kisses Derek again, chastely. "I love you."

Derek looks at Stiles with big eyes. "You love me?"

"Yeah," Stiles says, nodding and blushing a little. "I love you, I truly, desperately do. I know you probably don't feel the same way, and I know this might seem a little weird because I've never really shown you this very well. But I'm an asshole, okay? And fuck--" Stiles cards his fingers through his hair. "Seeing you almost die? I can't fucking bear to lose you, Derek. I want you in my life always. Every day. Even if you don't want the same."

At the declaration of love, Stiles really does feel his cheeks burning. And then Derek is bringing his hand under Stiles' chin and leveling their eyes together. "Hey," he says. "You're not stupid. You're just... stubborn." He smiles. "And a little oblivious. Or well, a lot, if you never noticed just how much I love you back."

"You love me back?" Stiles says, small, hopeful.

"I do," Derek says, smiling and nodding. "A lot. I've loved you for months. Haven't been wanting to break this bond for quite a long time."

Not being able to control himself, Stiles brings their faces together into a kiss then, this time a more urgent and passionate kiss. They kiss for minutes, exploring each other's mouths with little delicacy and eliciting sighs from each other.

Eventually they break apart, both of them smiling like idiots.

"You love me and you're my mate," Stiles says as if he can't believe it, giddy with the sensation of being loved.

"We love each other and we're mates," Derek corrects, bringing his hand to Stiles' and lacing their fingers together.

****

**Three and a half years later**

Stiles arrives home to find Derek grading tests on the kitchen table with a coffee mug next to him, looking concentrated. Stiles unbuttons his uniform, getting rid of his holster, and approaches Derek from behind, wrapping his arms around him and placing a gentle kiss on his temple.

"How was class today?" he asks, carding his fingers through Derek's hair in a loving manner.

"Good," Derek says, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. "It's high school, you know how that is. Some kids talk too much, but it's always good to see people learning. The test results are good too, surprisingly."

"That's great," Stiles says, rubbing a particular spot on Derek's scalp that he knows that Derek loves, which causes Derek to leave a strangled noise from his throat. Stiles grins proudly at that. "You're a good teacher, you shouldn't be surprised."

"I'm never so sure of that, so it's always good to have some proof," Derek says, and then asks, "How was work for you today? Everyone at the station doing okay? Your dad, too?"

"Everyone is fine," Stiles says, untangling himself from Derek, who makes a noise in protest. "Everyone loved the donuts I made yesterday. The recipe from that bakery you worked for in NYC is truly amazing, they ate _everything_. I even let my dad have one, you had to see his face, he was ecstatic to be allowed to have some decent food for the first time in forever. Ever since I joined the Beacon Hills force he's been living on fruits and vegetables, a donut for him is something out of this world." Stiles chuckles.

Derek chuckles with him. "He must've been very happy. And your donuts _were_ very good. I had one yesterday, it was fantastic. In no time you'll be even a better cook than I am."

"I doubt that," Stiles says skeptically, and then he remembers of something he had to give to Derek. "Ah, Derek, by the way, I have a present for you."

Derek perks up at that. "What is it?"

"I had been saving for your birthday..." Stiles says, rummaging through his bag, where he finds an envelope. He grabs it and approaches Derek, giving it to him. "But I'm not very good at keeping secrets, you know? Even if I wanted to make a surprise, it's really a shame to keep this stored for so long."

Derek looks like he's thrumming with curiosity. He takes the envelope, that only has an "With love, from Stiles" written in it, and examines it briefly before saying, "Can I open it?"

"Yeah, come on," Stiles says, motioning with his hands in an encouraging manner.

When Derek opens it, he takes out of it a picture: it's old, worn out at the edges but still in color, and the best thing is that it's not a simple picture, no, it's a picture from _Derek's family_. It's dated around a little bit before the fire, when Derek was a teenager. Everyone is there, Derek, Laura, Cora, Talia, Derek's dad, the twins, Peter, his wife, Peter's kids, and all other Derek's cousins and aunts and uncles. It's a wonder everyone fit in that picture, Stiles thinks, because it's a lot of people, but no one's missing, and that's the best thing about the picture.

Derek keeps silent for a long time, with trembling hands that hold the photograph with such care that Stiles would even think that Derek was holding a baby. Even if the Hale family had a vault, they didn't store any family pictures there, for some unknown reason, which Derek sometimes has commented to Stiles how he wishes he had a picture of his family somehow, how he sometimes thought he was forgetting their faces.

"I found this in the library's records," Stiles says, breaking the silence. "A few weeks ago or so. I had been searching for it for months. I tried a few other things too, but couldn't find anything. I'm really glad I found this."

Derek breaks his trance, looking up from the photograph to Stiles. His face looks broken, but he also looks like he's never been happier in his whole life, if that's even possible.

"Marry me," Derek blurts out out of a sudden.

Stiles' eyes widen. "W-what?" he stutters, not even sure if he heard it right.

Derek puts the picture away, on the table, and grabs Stiles' hands with his own. He looks in Stiles' eyes and repeats, this time more decisively, "Marry me."

"You want to marry me?" Stiles says, uncertain, heart filling with joy.

"Stiles, you're my mate," Derek says with emotion in his voice. "I love you, more than I've ever loved anyone before. I want to be by your side every day of my life. I want to grow old with you. I want to have _children_ with you. Yes, of course I want to marry you." He squeezes Stiles' hand, giving him a broad smile. "Now, will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Stiles squeals, trying somehow to convey how happy he is at the moment, even though he knows he’s probably going to fail because nothing in the world is going to be enough to express how he feels, and how much he loves Derek. "Yes, I will marry you, Derek! I will marry you _so hard_ you don’t even know."

And then he jumps into Derek's arms, wrapping their mouths together into a kiss, holding onto Derek and intending on never letting go of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, the end turned out to be a lot more sappy than i intended??? but i can't help it, i'm a sappy person at heart.
> 
> also, i may write a sequel to this with mpreg in the future??? but that's a maybe and if people want it idk, maybe. i don't know!
> 
> thanks for reading it :)

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr @ [stilesanderek](http://stilesanderek.tumblr.com/)!!! n_n
> 
> also, comments are highly appreciated and they make my world ♥


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